


And They Were Roommates

by OnlyJustAMemory



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Spies & Secret Agents, Angst, BAMF Merlin (Merlin), F/F, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Good Morgana (Merlin), M/M, Merlin Needs a Hug (Merlin), Minor Violence, Swearing, a lot of characters are good in this, i guess?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-26
Updated: 2020-11-14
Packaged: 2021-03-06 05:00:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 25,987
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25517677
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OnlyJustAMemory/pseuds/OnlyJustAMemory
Summary: {The Knights of Camelot were ruthless spies who had a habit of killing anyone who got in their way. They also thoroughly enjoyed killing Sorcerers, whether or not they’d been in the way. There was no true “good” or “evil” in a business like theirs, but the Sorcerers at least tried for something better. The Knights were a cold empire who cared only about power and self-preservation.Nonetheless, Merlin didn’t move out or leave. That would have been way too suspicious for comfort. He couldn’t exactly say, “Oh yeah you’re the heir to the Sorcerer’s #1 enemy and I’m an agent for the Sorcerers so maybe we shouldn’t live together?”}{Or in other words Merlin and Arthur work for rival agencies and they end up as roommates}
Relationships: Gwaine/Merlin (Merlin), Gwen/Morgana (Merlin), Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), More to be added - Relationship
Comments: 54
Kudos: 280





	1. do you know where i can hide a body?

**Author's Note:**

> enjoy this weird idea i had really late at night!

“Hey so hypothetically if I needed to hide a body do you know a place?”

Merlin startled, almost spitting out his mouthful of coffee. He swallowed it down with a large gulp and turned towards the voice.

“What the hell, Morgana?” He scowled, setting down his cup. She grinned and slipped into the chair across from him.

“What? I can’t visit my best friend?”

The scowl didn't disappear. Her grin grew.

“You know you can’t be here,” he muttered.

“Eh, I’m wearing a disguise,” Morgana replied, gesturing to the neatly placed blonde wig and expensive sunglasses. “Plus I know there are no Knights around. Aithusa promised me and you know how good she is with computers and shit.”

“You ever heard of undercover agents?”

Morgana shrugged and stole a sip of his coffee.

Merlin wished he could be that chill about it.

Fourteen months ago he’d moved to Albion. Fourteen months since he’d officially joined the Sorcerers. Unofficially he’d been working for them for years (his father had been one of their top agents), but the move had bumped up that status.

Fourteen months and somehow he’d managed to fuck up everything within the first few weeks.

_ Classic Merlin luck. _

He hadn’t had much money coming into the city. Sure he had a “reasonable” amount saved up somewhere, but it would look weird for a non-city kid to suddenly show up rich (and he needed a clean, boring record).

So naturally Merlin searched for a roommate.

A week into living in a motel, he found someone. Arthur Prince lived in a two-bedroom apartment in upper Albion and was looking for a roommate. Merlin had of course done a background check and when that had come back clear, he’d applied.

_ (After all, he knew how to take care of himself). _

Two days later he was moving in. When the door opened, revealing his new roommate, Merlin had wanted to scream in frustration.

_ How could someone fuck up this bad? _

Arthur Prince was actually Arthur Pendragon, the son of Uther Pendragon, head of the Knights of Camelot.

His rival agency.

Merlin had gotten through the introductions with gritted teeth. 

The Knights of Camelot were ruthless spies who had a habit of killing anyone who got in their way. They also thoroughly enjoyed killing Sorcerers, whether or not they’d been in the way. There was no true “good” or “evil” in a business like theirs, but the Sorcerers at least tried for something better. The Knights were a cold empire who cared only about power and self-preservation.

Nonetheless, Merlin didn’t move out or leave. That would have been way too suspicious for comfort. He couldn’t exactly say, “Oh yeah you’re the heir to the Sorcerer’s #1 enemy and I’m an agent for the Sorcerers so maybe we shouldn’t live together?”

Morgana kicked him under the table. He jumped, jerking his knee up so it slammed into the wood.

“Ow!” He hissed at her.

“You should have been paying attention.”

“I was,” he lied, going to take another sip only to find the cup empty.

Morgana rolled her eyes. “You’re one of the best spies alive and you can’t even lie well.”

“No, I can lie,” Merlin corrected. “Just not to you.”

“Awww,” she flicked him on the nose. “That was kind of sweet.”

_ Enough games. _ “What do you want, Morgana?” He sighed.

“Well,  _ Mer _ lin,” she said, drawing out the ‘Mer’, “I was being serious earlier.”

“About the body?”

“About the body.”

“Ask Gaius,” Merlin huffed.

“What if I needed to get rid of a body without Gaius knowing?” 

At this Merlin sat up straighter. “Why would you need to get rid of a body without Gaius knowing?”

Morgana signaled down a waitress for another two coffees. They were sitting in a little cafe a few blocks away from Merlin’s apartment, one Merlin had started to frequent a lot. 

“Reasons,” she trailed off.

_ That totally wasn’t suspicious. _

“Would those reasons land me in trouble, legally or Gaius-wise?”

Morgana contemplated this for a second. She genuinely seemed to be considering the answer, which was concerning. If it was legal and Gaius would have been fine with it, she’d have said it straight away. The answer was probably going to be no, but he wanted to see where this went.

“Can I get back to you on that?” She finally replied.

“I can’t help you hide a body and then find out if it’ll get me in trouble. That defeats the purpose.” 

Two coffee’s were placed in front of them and Morgana immediately went to drink some of hers.

“Ok, so one it’s a dead body, of course it wouldn’t be legal. And two, what Gaius doesn’t know won’t hurt him.”

“Whose dead body is it?”

Morgana once again contemplated her answer. It was very obvious she was having an internal debate about whether or not she should tell him. She was going to have to either a) tell him and take the chance that he wouldn’t help or b) not tell him and take the chance that he wouldn’t help. 

“Ok fine,” She groaned, leaning back in her chair. “It’s Cendred’s.”

Merlin choked on his coffee. His lungs burned as he tried to gasp for air and it was only when Morgana pounded him on the back that he found it. 

“What the actual fuck?” He croaked out.

She shrugged again. “To be fair, he went after me. I know there were potential alliances that could be set up, etc. etc., but if someone comes at you with a knife, you respond with a knife.”

“Are you sure he was trying to stab you? And not like… kill a bug near you?”

She kicked his leg again.

“Ok ok! Fine! I’ll help you hide his body. If anyone asks, I know nothing.”

Morgana beamed, acting as if she didn’t already know he’d say yes (it was Morgana what else could he have done). She pushed back the chair, stood up, and pecked him on the cheek. Calling a “thank you” over her shoulder, she vanished from his view.    
  


Being left alone again, Merlin slipped back into memory lane.

  
  
  
  


When he'd first met Morgana, they’d despised each other. If they weren’t yelling, they were bickering, and if they weren’t bickering they were insulting each other, and if they weren’t insulting each other they were glaring at each other. In other words, they were constantly at each other's throats. This might have been fine if they weren’t the top two agents of the Sorcerers (that was another thing they’d fought about: who was number one). It took a mission-gone-wrong to take out a high-level politician in Scotland for them to finally realize that they had a lot more in common than they thought. 

The two of them teamed up seemed to be even more chaos. While they’d caused Gaius a headache before,  _ this  _ was madness. They rarely got to team up anymore because of it, the only exceptions being high-stakes cases. Morgana was hands down Merlin’s best friend and she made his life a little less lonely.

Which was very sad now that he thought about it and not entirely true. He had Arthur.

Yes, the same Arthur that wouldn’t hesitate to kill him if he ever found out who Merlin really was. He’d expected Arthur to be just like his father, Uther. He’d expected the same traits, the ruthlessness, the cruelty, the pig-headedness. Admittedly Arthur did have a bit of that third one, but he wasn’t his father. He was caring, and loyal. He was an idiot but also one of the kindness people Merlin knew. The other week Merlin had watched as Arthur burnt a plate of those already pre-made cookie dough things in the oven (the  Pillsbury kind) . They’d had an argument over whether or not a banana should be considered a fruit. He was brave, and strong, and gentle, and sweet. Arthur was a genuinely good person.

Which made the situation even harder. 

Gaius didn’t know he was rooming with Uther Pendragon’s son. For one, Gaius was strangely protective over Merlin and would have forbidden him to step anywhere near Arthur without at least three knives, two guns, and maybe another knife just in case. Secondly, if he knew he’d have tried to get Merlin to spy on Arthur (which was fair since he was a spy).

Merlin could never have done that. He could never betray Arthur’s trust. Arthur had wiggled his way into Merlin’s heart and-

_ No. _

_ No. _

_ He would not go down that street. He COULD NOT go down that street.  _

Merlin chugged down the rest of his coffee, ignoring the way it slightly burnt his throat. He threw down a few pounds and got to work.

  
  



	2. Grapes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> General rule: you probably don’t hit the future heir of the Knights of Camelot with a grape.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have no idea how to write action scenes but enjoy :)

As much as Merlin would love getting to spend all his time at cafes, there was a reason why he’d been coming to this particular one every week. Usually something this close to his apartment would be a no-no, but the guy who ran the cafe was a complete and utter douche and Merlin was happy to take on this one. 

Edwin Muirden was an absolute prick. The sweet little cafe was not only a front for mafia dealings, but smuggling illegal goods too. Sometimes those illegal goods included people. He thrived off the misfortune and suffering of others. From the records Merlin had been able to find, he knew Muirden hadn’t had the best childhood, but that was no excuse for what he was doing now.

Merlin had only seen Muriden once or twice in his weeks of stakeout. The man was the definition of paranoid, and he’d only ever leave his back office surrounded by three bulky bodyguards. Those moments had happened when the cafe wasn’t open and Merlin had just happened to be “strolling” down on the other side of the street. If stealth wasn’t one of his strong suits, he would have been suspicious.

But he wasn’t. Why, you may ask? 

Because Merlin was forgettable. 

It was partially a skill he’d learned, but also one that’d he’d been using for a very, very long time. He knew how to blend in, how to fade into the background. There was nothing truly remarkable about him, especially when he tried. It was like looking at a tree in a forest. With no noticeable attributes that made him stand out, you’d never be able to find him again in a sea of people. 

So he knew he wasn’t suspicious. He’d perfected the skill. It was never good to be overly cocky, but he knew his limits and didn’t push them. He knew where and when to be 90% of the time.

He paused slightly as the door to the cafe opened. One man in black stepped out, followed by another, and then-

Muriden.

_ Talk about Mr. Edgy. _

He had a phantom of the opera-esk mask on that covered the left side of his face. Merlin knew that there was a pretty bad scar there as a result of his childhood. He had some kind of cape on too, which completely eliminated any stealth that he might have been going for. A limo pulled up beside the curb. What was astounding was that this was a sweet little cafe and somehow this guy with all his angst had managed to keep his cover. Or ok, no, this guy was definitely paying some kind of law enforcement to keep them off his back. Merlin would bet money that any civilians that asked about this odd behaviour would end up either dead or severely injured. 

Once Muriden had entered the limo, it took off in the opposite direction of Merlin’s apartment. This Merlin was very grateful for, because today was the day and whatever happened next he did not want to risk Arthur somehow finding out.

The traffic right now was light so the limo vanished out of Merlin’s sight quickly. He was on foot too, but he didn’t mind. He knew where he was going.

\------------------------------

Meanwhile, across town, Arthur was panicking. His forehead was sweating, his hands were shaking. His gaze jumped from the red to the blue over and over again until the two colors began to blur together. 

_ Goddamnit.  _

His mouth felt so stupidly dry and he wanted to kick himself. Why the hell was this so hard?

_ Calm down, Arthur. It’s ok. You’ve done this so many times before, you were TRAINED for this. You can’t screw it up. _

His hand hovered over the red one. If he chose the wrong one, it could be disastrous. Who knew what would happen if he screwed this up? He was the heir to the Knights of Camelot. This was so simple, so basic…

“Arthur?”

Arthur’s head shot up, meeting the look of one of his most trusted men, Leon. He was standing in the doorway with an eyebrow raised.

“Are you really this stressed about choosing a tie?”

Arthur looked back at the two ties on his bed, glaring at them. He’d faced countless criminals, murderers, assassins, corrupt government officials, overall just deadly people and yet he was being defeated by two ties. 

_ That would not look good on his gravestone. _

As if sensing his frustration, Leon pushed off of the doorframe and went to stand by him. He considered the two ties before picking up the red one.

“Here,” He said, pushing it into Arthur’s hand.

Arthur gave him a grateful smile and put it on. It looked good, the contrast of the color with the rest of his suit bringing his outfit alive. He appeared official, which was exactly what he’d been after.

“You ready now?” Leon asked. 

“One second.”

Arthur yanked his bag out from under his bed and placed it on the sheets. He unzipped it and pulled something out of it. It was a gun, and it was followed by another gun and then another, then two knives and then another elaborate knife, and then a mini knife. He placed them accordingly on himself. From the outside Arthur looked perfectly normal, which was a miracle considering how many weapons he had on his person.

“Alright, we’re good.”

Leon held the door open for Arthur and the two of them headed out. It was an elaborate maze of stone walls and steel doors as they went on, each corridor looking like the next. Occasionally there would be a banner displaying the Pendragon crest, a dragon on a red backdrop, but otherwise it was just plain grey. It was dull and dreary and Arthur hated it. This was why he’d gotten an apartment outside of this place. He’d needed color in his life, something beyond this dismal building. 

When they finally got to the main operation room, his father was already standing there. Arthur felt his back stiffen, causing him to somehow stand up even straighter at the sight of his father. Uther Pendragon was a very powerful man and even though Arthur was his blood, he got no special treatment. If anything he was tried harder and more intensely than any other recruit. 

_ The perks of being a Pendragon. _

“Father,” Arthur said, bowing his head. 

Leon copied his example, bowing a little bit lower than Arthur had. 

“Arthur,” Uther said, examining his son under intense scrutiny. He took in his suit ( and the tie ) and then nodded in satisfaction. “Good, you look presentable. You need to make the best impression tonight. We  _ need  _ this deal.”

“Hang on a second,” Arthur spluttered. “You? As in me? As in implying you will not be there?”

“It’s finally time for you to properly step outside the nest,” Uther said.

“But-”

“This is not up for debate,” Uther stated, using his no-nonsense voice. “You are going alone and that is final.”

Arthur knew better than to argue with his father. Once his mind was set on something that was where it stayed. He bowed once again respectfully, and backed away. Leon stayed by his side as they slipped back into the maze, this time continuing on past the control room. Arthur tried to ignore the way the tie had begun to feel like it was strangling him. This was important.

_ He could not screw this up.  _

\------------------------------

Arthur did not expect that it would be a grape that would calm him down. For the past ten minutes Gwaine had been throwing the fruit up into the air and then trying to catch them in his mouth. You could tell how well it had been going by the small pile of grapes that has begun to collect around his feet.

“You’re picking those up,” Elyan grumbled. Leon nodded in agreement, as he’d been the one who’d drawn the short straw and had to sit next to Gwaine. 

Gwaine shrugged and went for another grape. At the exact same moment, the car they were in hit a bump and they were all thrown slightly forward. Instead of landing near Gwaine’s mouth, the grape hit Arthur squarely in the eye. The driver threw an apology over his shoulder but the four Knights didn’t acknowledge it. Elyan and Leon had their common what-the-fuck-Gwaine looks on their faces. Gwaine seemed to be terrified. Arthur’s face was completely neutral, which seemed to make Gwaine even more scared.

General rule: you probably don’t hit the future heir of the Knights of Camelot with a grape. 

Arthur calmly bent down and picked up one of the grapes. It was slightly mushy, but it would serve its purpose well. Gwaine opened his mouth to apologize, but before he could the same grape zoomed towards him and hit him straight in the nose. 

There was another beat of silence and then war broke out. 

Gwaine catapulted another grape at Arthur. One of them hit Elyan this time and he grabbed a handful of them and threw them back at Gwaine. Leon chucked one at Elyan and then another one at Arthur. Arthur had collected a pile of them on his lap and was strategically throwing them at all three. 

It alleviated some of the pressure on Arthur’s chest. He felt  _ good  _ being near them. There were his supports, the people who he could lean back on when he needed to. It definitely helped that they were all badasses too and highly trained spies. Arthur would not wish to have anyone else by his side (Percival and Lancelot were back at the base though so they were there in spirit). 

The car rolled to a stop. Leon exited first, took a brief sweep of the area, and then let the rest of them out. Arthur fixed his tie, and tried his best to not show how much he was panicking. He needed this to go well. He also knew the man they were meeting was powerful, powerful enough to warrant their attention and powerful enough that they’d want an alliance with him.

They’d chosen a loading dock as their meeting point and the four of them weaved their way through piles of crates before arriving at the space near the water. Despite arriving early, they weren’t the first ones there.

Their soon-to-be ally was leaning casually against one of the crates, a cigar dangling from his lips. It wasn’t even lit, but this guy seemed to be all about the aesthetic. He wore a phantom of the opera style mask on one side of his face, one that you’d totally find in a halloween costume store. Arthur wondered vaguely if that was where he’d gotten it, but that probably wouldn’t have made a good first impression.

“Mr. Muirden, I assume?” Arthur asked, holding out his hand. 

The other man shook it. “You assume correctly. You must be Uther’s boy, Arthur.”

“That I am.”

  
Arthur glanced briefly at the men surrounding Mr. Muirden. There were three of them and you could see each were heavily armed. That meant they stood on an even playground, 4 vs. 4. 

“Well, shall we begin?” Mr. Muirden pushed off the crate and stepped in front of Arthur. He gave off so many creepy vibes, and if this alliance wasn’t needed, Arthur would have absolutely kicked this guy’s ass (he knew what he got up to in his spare time). 

Arthur began to speak, but was cut off by a sound in the distance. It was slowly growing louder and it took him a second to realize it was the roaring of a motorcycle. His head snapped up and his default defense mode activated. A gun was in his hand before he could even process anything, the same being said for Gwaine, Leon, and Elyan. Mr. Muirden’s men were slower, hesitating in reaching for anything, and Arthur knew that he’d have to end up protecting them too. 

The motorcycle came into sight and they all ducked for cover. Peeking over the top of a crate Arthur couldn’t see much except for the blinding glow of the vehicle's front lights. The only observation he made was that the man was wearing all black. He turned away, knowing that shooting blindly was never a good option, but he didn’t have a choice. The person on the motorcycle was heading straight for Muirden.

Gwaine went for the wheels while Arthur shot at the person's body. Whoever they were they weren’t an amateur and they easily dodged the bullets. Those ones headed for the wheels bounced back off the tires too, which meant this guy had some high quality tech. Elyan had been trying to sneak up behind the guy, but while still controlling the motorcycle, the person in black managed to pull out a gun and shoot right back. Elyan fumbled for cover a second too late and Arthur knew he’d been hit.

Anger rose in him. One of his men had been hurt. Whoever the hell was riding this motorcycle was going down. 

Leon had backed up to protect Muirden but all three of the remaining Knights, now joined by the bodyguards, were shooting at the intruder. They hardly seemed to notice. The person was dodging perfectly and the few bullets that hit stuck to the person's chest, never penetrating skin. They were getting way too close and Arthur was running out of ammo. A quick shared look with Gwaine revealed that he was struggling too.

_ Shit.  _

In a final, last ditch attempt, Arthur yanked a knife out and threw it. His aim had always been near-perfect, so it wasn’t a surprise that it spiraled directly towards his target. The motorcyclist tried to dodge again, but this time the steel ended up going straight into their shoulder. The person hissed, but it was too late. They’d been struck.

That didn’t stop them though. The motorcyclist had pulled out a gun so fast that no one had noticed until they began to shoot. Four bullets went out and four bullets hit their marks perfectly. The three bodyguards went down and Muirden, who’d hidden behind one of them, dropped as well. Leon was unhurt for some reason (the stranger hadn’t even gone for him) but otherwise...

Arthur tried to convince himself that Muirden wasn’t dead. He’d been hit but there was a chance of recovery, he told himself. Everything was going to be ok.

_ Things were not going to be ok. _

He’d lost too much blood. The way his face paled and the way his breathing had halted...

Arthur sharply turned back to the man in black. His gun was already raised, but if he’d shot, he’d have shot at nothing. Whoever they were, they were gone, leaving nothing but skid marks and a dead man behind.

\------------------------------

Merlin heard the apartment door slam shut. Usually Arthur would never be that aggressive with it, but Merlin had a feeling he hadn’t had a good day. He had a very  _ very  _ strong feeling that his day had been pretty shitty in fact.

_ I wonder why. _

“Everything alright?” Merlin asked innocently, cradling his cup of hot cocoa to his chest. Lilo and Stitch was playing on the TV and Merlin was wrapped up in a blanket. He felt incredibly comfortable and he was glad he’d learned how to manipulate his emotions because otherwise Arthur’s face would have made him burst out laughing.

_ He looked so pissed. _

“Everything’s fine,” Arthur grumbled out. “Mind your own business, Merlin.”

He stormed off to somewhere upstairs (sort of like a child having a tantrum). Merlin heard the door of his bedroom swing shut and once alone he let out a little snort. The movement caused his shoulder to move and he hissed in pain. He’d wrapped it up in a hurry, needed to get home as fast as possible. 

Oh well, he mused. A knife wound was nothing. He’d gotten to ride Morgana’s motorcycle though so the pain was worth it.

_ And so was Arthur’s face. _

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments and kudos appreciated!


	3. The Aftermath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Merlin is a disaster, Gwen just knows, and Arthur makes a friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy!

Merlin stepped into the Sorcerer's headquarters. The front of their setup was a tailor’s shop, one that actually sold and fitted clothes. It was fully functional, which made it even easier to hide the fact that there was a secret organization hidden beneath/behind (it was basically Kingsman in a sense and Merlin liked to remind Gaius of his originality every chance he got. Gaius would always huff in return and tell Merlin that they’d been there long before that movie had come out).

He waved “hi” to Freya as he passed through the reception area. Freya had been working for the Sorcerers for a couple months now, ever since Merlin had offered her the job. It most definitely _technically_ wasn’t his place to be offering such positions, but she’d been living alone on the street. Some asshole gang members had been harassing her for awhile and she hadn’t been able to fight back because 1) she didn’t know how to and 2) she was _tiny._ Merlin had brought her to the agency with a promise of a job, a place to live plus food, and training so she _could_ learn how to fight back. Luckily Gaius hadn’t given much push back, and now Merlin got to say “hi” to Freya every day. 

The second he’d put his bag down by his desk (yes, they had desks) and turned around, a pile of papers got shoved into his hands. Nimueh hadn’t even given him any warning. She stood there, smirking, as he fumbled to keep them all together.

“What the hell?” 

“It’s your paperwork,” she said, clearly very satisfied with herself.

“Why is there so much of it?”

Nimueh shrugged. “Gaius.”

“That’s… not an answer?”

“Yes it is.”

_ Yeah it was. _

“Have fun!” She called over his shoulder, leaving Merlin and his new best friend(s) alone. He had a strange urge to hiss at her. Merlin didn’t usually hiss at people, but Nimueh always seemed to bring out new sides of him. He’d complained multiple times to Gaius about her, but the answer had been the same every time: ‘She’s been here longer than you, Merlin, and she’s a respectable and efficient agent. Just because you dislike her-’

“‘Doesn’t mean I can kick her out’,” He grumbled the rest out loud. 

“We talking about Gaius’s mantra about Nimueh?”

Merlin rolled his eyes at Morgana, who’d somehow appeared over his shoulder. “Yep. She’s like a bad cold you can’t get rid of. I don’t think even Gaius likes her.” 

“No one likes her. She’s lucky she  _ is  _ good at her job otherwise she’d properly be dead.”

_ “Morgana,”  _ Merlin squawked, quickly glancing around. Somehow he wouldn’t be surprised if Nimueh was lurking around, had heard, and was now plotting to kill them. She had ears everywhere. 

“What? You know it’s true. We’re spies, we’d have either killed her and some other organization would’ve. The Knights probably would jump at the chance.”

Merlin held back the urge to wince. God, it was so close to the truth. Regardless of whether or not it was Nimueh, the Knights would just enjoy the killing part. He’d been feeling smug last night because of the success of the mission but now… After his thoughts had fully settled and he’d had time to think… He never wanted to be that close to Arthur again like that. It hadn’t been the first time the two had “met on the job”, but last night had been more personal somehow. Merlin had been expecting Uther to be there as well, not just Arthur and his men. He’d met a few of them too as just “Arthur’s roommate” and they seemed alright enough, but they were  _ Knights.  _ Arthur was a Knight too and Merlin shouldn’t have avoided shooting any of them. They certainly hadn’t hesitated. He had though, only taking aim when killing Muirden. If Gaius knew, he’d be livid. 

_ Why didn’t he shoot? _

Merlin had never known his father, but his mother had taught him lessons. She hadn’t exactly been a civilian herself so her teachings had always been elaborate and leaning more towards the “illegal” side of life (she’d known what he was going to be/become before he’d even realized it (he was too much like his father)). One of her more important lessons had been about emotions. Knowing how to throw a knife was cool and all, but if your feelings got in the way it was useless. Personal connections were unwise, she’d told him, but almost impossible to avoid. Sure an agent who never got “attached” was great, but it was very very important that you never lost sight of the fact you were human. No one was untouchable. You aren’t a god, and thinking yourself to be emotionless led you straight on a path to thinking you were one. The trick was to listen to your heart, but never become deaf to your brain. Never exclude logic. Realistic thinking was the best kind of thinking. 

They weren’t her exact words (it had been awhile), but the gist was still there. Merlin’s logic?

_ He should have shot Arthur. They were shooting back and by not defending himself, he was decreasing the chance of success for the mission. If he hit one of the Knights, or killed them, it would be one less enemy agent to deal with. It was rational. _

Merlin’s heart?

_ He didn’t want to hurt Arthur. He wouldn’t have been just another kill for Merlin. With Arthur everything was muddled up. He didn’t know which way was right or which way was left. Even just shooting Arthur’s men would have hurt Arthur. He knew that his roommate deeply cared about all of them and would place the blame of one of them getting hurt on himself. He couldn’t bring himself to cause Arthur pain. It was irrational. _

So it became a standoff. His realistic thinking? He needed to get away from Arthur, maybe just for right now in the mission sense. Merlin wanted to go back to just being roommate Merlin, not rival assassin Merlin. He’d become too attached.

How the hell did he ask Gaius for that without it being suspicious?

Fuck, he needed help. He needed help that wouldn’t snitch and would actually _ be  _ help. 

A name popped into his head almost immediately. 

\--

Arthur never thought he’d become this person. He hated the fact that he’d become this person.

_ Were they mocking him? They were totally mocking him. _

He stared at the middle one. Yep, it was mocking him. Was this normal? Was it normal to be having a stare-down with a duck?

_ Probably not, but who cared. He certainly didn’t, not anymore. _

His father had been pissed. No, that was an understatement. His father was enraged to the point where he hadn’t even verbally expressed how angry he was. Over the years Uther had perfected a stare that made Arthur feel so insecure that he questioned his entire existence and profession. Even worse, it made him feel like a kid again (when he most certainly was not). Arthur knew he wasn’t good enough in his father’s eyes. Sure Uther could have his proud moments, but last night reminded him of the fact that his son wasn’t perfect. 

_ Arthur makes the slightest mistake and would you look at that, here comes that disappointment.  _

Except last night hadn’t been a “slight mistake”. He’d never screwed up that much before.

Arthur knew how to shoot a gun. He was a superb shot and could hit a bullseye in his sleep. He’d been training basically since he’d come into the world. This was who he was… this was all he was.  _ Why the fuck had he missed? _

Because he’d been off his game. When he was on his home turf he was used to just protecting or killing. There were no elaborate conversations that came with it, no intricate dance where you didn’t know the steps until you were moving. He was good at killing. He was good at listening and collecting information. He could give orders easily, but business deals like that one weren’t like giving orders. Muirden hadn’t been one of his own.

Maybe if he’d had time to prepare. Maybe if he’d been giving a bit more warning, instead of being told he was going at it alone right before they left. There were so many maybes, swirling around and around until they became an ocean of their own and left him drowning. They were also excuses in a sense. This was his fault. There was no one else to blame. 

Elyan had ended up being fine. The bullet wound hadn’t been that serious, only enough so that he’d be out of the game for a few weeks. It was almost like the shooter had purposefully missed, which wasn’t possible. Why the hell would they hold back fire? Arthur had a feeling they were a Sorcerer and Sorcerer’s were not known for holding back. His father had told him horror stories about them and how they were not to be trusted at any point in time. Not that they were saints, but the Knights at least had a code. 

Must not have been a very good agent.

~~_ (Or maybe he was missing something.)  _ ~~

Whoever the hell had been riding that motorcycle, they were going to pay. For now, Arthur was content to stare at his duck. At least the duck wouldn’t cause him great distress. The duck was his friend. 

His friend honked at him loudly and tried to bite him. 

He took all of it back. 

Screw the duck. 

He had some digging to do. 

\--

Merlin traversed the hallway of infinite doors. Morgana and he had dubbed it that because not only did it seem to go on forever, but there were so  _ so  _ many doors. They’d tried counting them once, but had gotten bored halfway through and had instead gone out for Chinese food.

He stopped at a door with the plaque “weapons smith”. Parallel to it was another door that had the same plaque, but the one he was before had a name tag underneath too. It read “ _ Guinevere _ ”. 

“Oh Gwennnnnn!” Merlin sang, pushing open the door. His friend was sitting criss-cross on the floor. The only source of light came from the fire in the forge. It made Gwen glow almost, her hair burning with shades of orange and yellow and red. She looked beautiful, even otherworldly in that moment.

“Merlin,” she said with a soft smile, seemingly happy to see him. “What can I do for you?”

Merlin copied her position and sat down in front of her. Gwen, who had been writing in her notebook of ideas, placed it gently on the floor beside her.

“You do know you have a perfectly good desk over there? And we have great electricity here.”

“One, I like it better like this. It’s easier to think. Two, you’re deflecting.”

“No I’m not!”

“Yeah you are. I’m not gonna force you to talk about anything, but I know that look. You’re worrying.”

“I am a fearless assassin. I do not worry.”

Gwen gave him a Look. “The other day you were so close to full out sobbing because you saw a cat stuck in a tree. The fire department was already there. They were getting the ladder ready.”

“The cat looked so scared ok! She was trembling and I felt bad.”

“Merlin, you weren’t personally responsible for the cat being there. She was gonna be fine.”

“You don’t know that!”

Gwen gave him another Look, and Merlin sighed. There was no hiding when it came to Gwen. She just  _ knew  _ a lot of the time. It was like she had another sense that allowed her to detect when something was wrong, which must have been very helpful for her, but not to others. Gaius had once tried to get her to work out in the field, but she’d refused almost instantly. She didn’t kill. Sure she made them weapons and supplied them with other resources, but physically being out on the field? Her heart wasn’t in that and neither was her head.

“Fine, ok? I have a problem. A big problem that I have no idea how to un-problem.”

“I’m not a therapist, you know that right? I’m pretty sure Gaius has someone for that.”

He rolled his eyes. “I don’t need a therapist. I need advice.”

“Spill.”

Merlin took a deep breath in and then another one out. Doubt was beginning to seep into his mind, like a thick fog, and he knew that if he didn’t start now, he wouldn’t at all. 

“First of all, let me tell the whole thing before you undoubtedly yell at me. I need to tell someone before it literally eats me alive. You know Arthur right? Arthur Pendragon, heir to the Knights of Camelot? Well, I sort of know him. I sort of know him not as Arthur Pendragon, but as Arthur Prince. It’s a dumb alias, I know, but I don’t think he thought that someone would recognize him as a Pendragon, not when he put out that ad. I did though, because I’m a Sorcerer and he’s a Knight and ha-ha, if he knew he would kill me. Doesn’t matter that I’m his roommate. I don’t think he would hesitate, even though… Even though he isn’t a bad person. I  _ know _ him, ok? I’ve seen what he’s like when he isn’t on the job, and he’s a good person. He’s kind and thoughtful and cares and he’s nothing at all like what a Knight should be. I fucked up real big when I moved in. I didn’t know it was him, I swear, but then I didn’t move out.

I thought I would, after at least a month, but I didn’t. Wanna know why? Because I grew attached. I grew fucking attached, and after the job last night… I don’t think I can do that anymore. I didn’t shoot back and I didn’t shoot the others he was with. What the fuck is wrong with me? I had the chance to kill a Knight and I didn’t take it. Sure, I killed Muirden, but… I can’t be near him. Not anymore, not until I figure this shit out.”

Merlin flipped onto his back. None of what he’d said made much sense, not without the context behind it. He needed to say it outright. “I’m Arthur Pendragon’s roommate. I have been since I moved to Albion. He doesn’t know who I am, but I know who he is and it’s a mess, Gwen.”

Silence. Absolute silence. The forge had even seemed to quiet, which really wasn’t helpful.

“Is this some weird joke? Have you joined an acting class? Is this practice?” 

He propped himself up onto his elbows and looked Gwen in the eyes. Gwen groaned. “You are being serious.”

“Unfortunately.”

“Merlin, I say this with the utmost kindness,  _ what the fuck? _ ”

“I know! I screwed up!”

“Screwed up?  _ Screwed up?  _ Merlin, this is so much more than just a screw up. Remind me again, how many of our agents have been killed by the Knights?”

“Countless.”

“And how many do you think Arthur is responsible for?”

_ Fuck.  _

“Merlin.” She laid down next to him. “He has so much blood on his hands. Our _ people’s  _ blood, whether directly or indirectly. You need to put as much space between you and him as possible.”

He squeezed his eyes shut. It hurt so much to hear, but Gwen was right. It was what Logic had been saying in his head, but his Heart had been shoving it down, refusing to believe it. Now what did he do? 

_ He listened to Gwen, that was what he did.  _

“You’re right,” Merlin murmured. “I can’t keep on doing this. I’ll leave.”

“Uh huh.” She gave him a disbelieved look.

“What? I will!”

“Bullshit.”

“You literally just told me I needed to get away from him!”

“And I know you’re not going to take my advice.” She sat back up again and turned to look at him. She stared at him as if she knew every little thought he was having, every little feeling that was running through him. Merlin both hated it and loved it. This was why Gwen and Morgana were such a deadly duo. They were his best friends, but Merlin was also terrified of them. 

“You don’t know that.” He sounded like a whiny child. 

“I do know that. You’re not going to change anything, because you like him.”

“Well, yeah I guess we’ve been roommates for awhile.”

She gave him a knowing look, a “that’s bullshit” look. He stuck his tongue out at her.

“This isn’t going to go anywhere, Merlin. You’re stubborn as hell and whatever I tell you, you aren’t going to cut ties.”

“Stop being right.”

“I can’t help it! It’s just who I am,” she laughed. Merlin snorted and poked her side. She poked him back and then soon enough it morphed into an intense tickle fight. He was a top-tier spy and yet within a minute he held his hand up in surrender. It really wasn’t fair that Gwen wasn’t that ticklish. She always won. 

Even with a smile on his face, he still felt the anxiety bubbling up and around inside of him. 

_ That had been entirely unproductive.  _

_ What the hell did he do now? _

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promise we're going to have Merlin and Arthur interactions next chapter. Comments and kudos appreciated!


	4. some brain cells? perhaps?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> arthur & merlin go shopping and things happen in the background

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> enjoy!

“Do we need more peanut butter?”

Merlin stared down at the phone. He’d picked up a second ago, not even bothering to look at the caller ID since it wasn’t his work phone. The sound of Arthur’s voice had startled him, but the odd question that followed him just made him wonder how many braincells his roommate had left. 

“Peanut… butter?”

“Yeah, you know the stuff you put on sandwiches.” There was the faint noise of someone speaking over an intercom and the sound of shopping carts.

“Arthur, are you serious?” 

“Yes, why wouldn’t I be? I’m food shopping.”

Part of Merlin always balked at the thought of Arthur going around a supermarket grabbing things like cereal or cheese. He just seemed so strange in that setting. Supermarkets were quiet little places where the biggest argument would be about who’d get the last corner yogurt. A spy who’d killed countless amounts of people did not fit into that setting.

“Arthur,” Merlin sighed. “We’re both allergic to nuts. We can’t have peanut butter.”

“...Oh.”

It was comical how many people Arthur had convinced that he was a smart and intelligent human being. Sure he was dangerous, powerful, and an overall badass, but brain cells?  _ None.  _

“What other things do you have?” Merlin asked, ignoring the small smile that was creeping onto his face.

“Bread.”

“And?

“No, that’s all I have. Bread.”

“How long have you been out for?”

A pause.

“I had to get petrol?”

“Why did that sound so much like a question?”

“Merlin, you’re asking too much of me.”

“It’s Saturday! And it’s three o’clock in the evening!”

“I stand by my statement.”

Merlin groaned, one loud enough that would have definitely been heard through the phone’s speaker. 

“Do you at least have a shopping list?”

“No.”

This time Merlin buried his head in one of the sofa cushions and screamed. How the hell did Arthur  _ function _ ?  _ Or survive? _

_ Probably because he’d grown up spoiled his entire life and hadn’t fully been ready to live on his own. _

“Alright, what do you think we need?” 

“...Food?”

“That’s it,” Merlin huffed, getting up. He grabbed his jacket from a hook in the hallway and shrugged it on. “Where are you?”

“I can shop on my own.” Merlin could hear the pout through the phone.

“If you were genuinely about to buy peanut butter you most certainly can not.” 

On his way out Merlin grabbed the actual shopping list off the fridge. It consisted entirely of his own sloppy handwriting, except for one, neat item at the end:  _ peanut butter. _

“I swear to god, Arthur,” Merlin muttered. How was this man not dead yet?  _ How?!  _ Maybe, if it ever came down to it, Merlin should just let him eat the peanut butter he apparently so desperately wanted. It would be very discreet and no one would blame Merlin. It’d be perfect.

~~_ But he’d make sure that day would never come. _ ~~

Merlin shut the door of their apartment and headed down the stairs. The elderly couple on the floor below them were having a full-blown screaming match again. The language they used changed every week and they’d shifted to Italian today. In the past it had been Spanish, French, Greek, Danish, Arabic, and Russian. When they weren’t yelling, they were actually pretty sweet. They’d made Merlin and Arthur cookies on many different occasions. 

“Are you actually on the way?” Arthur’s voice came from the phone.

“You’d probably meet your end in the microwavable meal section if I didn’t.”

“I am not  _ that  _ incapable.”

“PEANUT BUTTER, ARTHUR. PEANUT BUTTER,” Merlin yelled into the phone. A passing couple on the street gave him a weird look. He smiled guiltily at them and whispered ‘sorry’.

Arthur began to splutter excuses on the other end. Merlin made sure to just occasionally murmur “uh-huhs” to give off the impression that he was listening.

He wasn’t.

“Arthur, I gotta go,” he said, breaking off his roommate mid-sentence. “I’m about to meet up with this prat who thinks he’s so much better than everyone else and I need to emotionally prepare.”

“ _ MERLIN!” _

He hung up, grinning.

________

Arthur was standing in front of the Tesco’s, arms crossed. He looked pissed, whether it be at the sight of Merlin or at the empty shopping cart next to him was unknown.

“What happened to the bread?”

“I put it back.”

“Arthur! What if we have a bread-pocalypse? What if that bread could have saved our lives?” 

“You’re putting too much pressure on a single loaf of bread. It can’t handle that much stress.” 

“It’s our only chance of survival. Without it we’ll never live to see another day.”

Arthur groaned. “Come on, Merlin, I’ve already been here for half an hour. I want to go home at some point within the next hour.”

“Alright then,” Merlin reached into his pocket and pulled out the shopping list. “Let's go shopping!”

\--

Arthur continued to scowl as Merlin pushed the cart ahead. He felt like a kid, sulking because his mum had forced him to go grocery shopping. He’d been the one who’d left their apartment with the intention of getting food. Despite this, here he was, trailing around after Merlin.

It was funny how some people thought Merlin was the responsible one. Sure he had his moments, but he was equally a “clotpole” and a clutz. He’d almost just tripped over a spare shopping bag on the floor _. _ Take his shoulder too. Arthur could see the way Merlin was treating it and knowing him, he’d likely tripped over his own feet and hurt it.

_ Idiot. _

“Strawberry jam or raspberry jam?” Merlin asked.

Arthur took a moment to consider.

“Both.”

Merlin placed the two jars in the cart.

They went aisle to aisle, picking out what they needed. While Merlin stopped to think about the pasta options (he was very particular about pasta), Arthur thought.

_ Which yes, he had the capability of doing. _

He wasn’t sure what he’d been expecting when he’d put out that ad all those months ago. It wasn’t like he didn’t have the money to live alone. He was the son of the “CEO of a giant tech company”. Having a roommate though… Arthur had left living at the Knights headquarters for some kind of normal-cy. A roommate had seemed to be a part of that package. He wasn’t sure what he’d been expecting, but it certainly hadn’t been Merlin. His only true experience with the outside world was those cheesy movies Gwaine had forced him to watch. A guy like Merlin never showed up in those movies.

So he’d been unprepared (and Arthur hated being unprepared). He pretended he only “tolerated” Merlin. The amount of times he’d threatened to kick Merlin out was very, very high (each occasion ended with Merlin pointing out that both of their names were on the lease). The truth though was that Arthur wouldn’t trade Merlin for anything.

_ God, that was cheesy. Maybe Merlin was in those movies. _

They’d both been extremely guarded at first. Arthur had had to work hard to hide his real profession and for whatever reason Merlin had been equally as private. As time went on though, he’d found himself… ~~_caring_~~ slowly beginning to add Merlin to the list of his “people”. There were only a handful of others on that list and the fact that his roommate was on there kind of baffled him. The worst(?) part of it was that he hadn’t meant for Merlin to end up there. It was so gradual and so natural that he hadn’t even realized until it was too late.

Regardless, Merlin was one of his people now. 

And he protected his people no matter what.

“Just pick a pasta, Merlin!” Arthur complained. 

“This is a very important process! You can’t rush the pasta!”

“It’s literally just pasta.”

“Ok, but have you considered that you’re wrong? The last time you even touched pasta, you set it on fire.”

Arthur, smirking, went to poke the pasta that Merlin was touching. The second his finger hit the plastic, Merlin recoiled and hissed. He threw the package back to where it’d been and practically sped away from the aile, pasta-less.

“Did you just  _ hiss _ ???” Arthur said, jogging to keep up.

Merlin hissed at him again.

“Why are you so protective over pasta?!”

His roommate ignored him, pulling into the self-check out section. He continued to ignore him, even when Arthur resorted to continuously prodding his side.

“You really are a five year old!” Merlin exclaimed, throwing his arms up. He shoved the last of their stuff in their bags and then stuck his tongue out at Arthur.

“Hey!”

_ When the hell had Merlin gotten this fast? _

________

When Arthur managed to catch up, Merlin was already by their car. It hadn’t been that hard to find considering it was  _ bright blue _ .

“Look what I brought,” Merlin said, grinning like mad. Arthur gave him a curious look and he riffled through the shopping bags before pulling out a jar of peanut butter. “I should get it framed. It’s an iconic moment of pure stupidity.” 

Merlin was well versed in Arthur-ness by now. He saw the hit coming from miles away. He ducked as Arthur swung at him, trying to the slap of his head. It missed (only by an inch or so because Arthur was fast), but the momentum he’d put into the punch caused Arthur to stumble forward. Merlin caught him before he face-planted into the pavement, erasing the distance they’d had before. They were so close, so very close. It shouldn’t have mattered and Merlin should have been able to pull away but  _ goddamnit _ .

Merlin could smell the stupid colonge Arthur liked to wear (and the one he  ~~ loved  ~~ hated). He looked into his roommates eyes, felt himself drown in the blue irises. They were the kind of blue that would have made a bright, clear summer sky jealous. In other words, they were enchanting and shit, was he breathing? He needed to breathe.

_ But he couldn’t. _

Not with the lack of space, not with how Arthur was looking at him. It was all in his head, it had to be, but they were slowly inching closer and-

A car honked somewhere in the distance and they jumped apart.

Merlin’s heart was beating stupidly fast. He refused to look at Arthur and silence spread over them like a blanket. 

_ He needed to break the tension. _

“You missed, clotpole,” he said.

“Clotpole isn’t a real word,” Arthur spluttered.

_ Were his cheeks slightly red? _

“Your stupidity forced it into existence.”

Merlin expected Arthur to try and hit him again, but he seemed to purposely be trying to put distance between the two. 

“Come on.” Arthur coughed. “I’ll drive.”

________

Neither of them had looked at their “work” phones the entire time. 

If Arthur had, he would have seen 34 missed calls, over 50 text messages, and more importantly, a single call from his father.

If Merlin had, he would have seen 28 missed calls, around 60 text messages, and more importantly, a single call from Gaius.

Neither of them ever put their phones on silent.

But when did the normal rules ever apply when the two of them were together?

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and the plot beginsssssss (also will I ever stick to regular update schedule? the world may never know)


	5. old faces and new faces

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Merlin meets some Knights and Morgana paces.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is short but the next chapter is gonna be very long so I guess it makes up for it.

“Could you help?”

Merlin glanced back down the stairs. Arthur was trying to balance the five heavy shopping bags they had, slightly wobbling as he went up step by step. Merlin was holding no bags, which he thought was fair considering he’d been the one to do the actual shopping.

“I’m good thanks,” Merlin hummed, climbing slightly faster in case Arthur decided to throw something at him (they’d left the jar of peanut butter outside the elderly couple's apartment considering neither of them could eat it  _ ever _ ). 

Once they got to their apartment, Merlin reached into his pocket to grab his keys, but froze when he saw their door. It was cracked slightly open and you could see some of the light from inside. In other words, it was unlocked and Merlin never  _ ever  _ left the door unlocked. He was a spy for god's sake, paranoia was part of the job. If he went around leaving things unlocked he would have been dead years ago. 

He wanted to panic, but he knew that wouldn’t help. Panicking would do nothing but make this whole thing worse. He let his hand inch into his jacket where he kept his emergency knife. Worse-case-scenarios began to pop into his head, one after the other.

_ Some old enemy of his had found him. _

_ Arthur had ratted him out and the Knights were here to kill him. _

_ Someone else had figured out he was a Sorcerer and the Knights were here to kill him. _

_ Gaius had found out and was in there to kill Arthur. _

_ Morgana had found out and was in there to kill Arthur. _

_ A random person had just decided this was the apartment they were going to rob, not knowing who it belonged to,  _

They went on, even though maybe thirty seconds had passed since he’d seen the open door. He could hear Arthur’s footsteps behind him and that was when the panic set in. This was not how his cover was going to be blown. He refused to let it happen now, or ideally, ever. 

“Merlin?” Arthur said, coming to stand next to him. “What’s wro-?”

He’d spotted the open door too. The shopping bags were on the floor faster than most people would have been able to process, and Arthur was pushing the door open fully before Merlin could say another word.

“Wait,” Merlin hissed, reaching to grab Arthur’s jacket to pull him back, but his roommate was already in the apartment. Merlin waited for the inevitable crashing of items or raised voices. What he wasn’t expecting was:

“What the bloody hell are you two doing here?”

Arthur sounded alarmed but not a “one of us is about to die” alarmed. There wasn’t any serious danger, not from what Merlin could tell, so he removed his hand from his jacked and stepped into their apartment.

The day had already been hectic. There had been so many twists and turns and utter absurdities. But this? This took the cake and every other cake to have be made after.

_ How the hell was he supposed to get out of this? _

_____________________

When Arthur had told his Knights that he was moving into an apartment alone, he’d made sure to let them know that they could  _ never  _ come over without letting him know first. This rule was especially enforced when Merlin had moved in. If they just showed up whenever they wanted the risk of Merlin finding out was too high for Arthur’s liking. He’d made sure each one of them promised that they would follow that rule no matter what. 

So why on  _ Earth  _ were Gwaine and Lancelot casually sitting on their couch, watching Love Actually? Arthur didn’t even know they had Love Actually, unless Merlin had gone out and brought it at some point. Considering Merlin seemed to only ever watch Disney movies (Lilo and Stitch was his favorite) it seemed unlikely. If Gwaine had  _ brought that with him _ , Arthur was going to kill him. No, he was going to kill them  _ both  _ regardless. 

To make things  _ definitely better  _ Gwaine wasn’t even acknowledging that he was there. He was too wrapped up in the movie, mouthing everything word for word as it went on.

“What are you doing here?” Arthur said, repeating his question through gritted teeth.

“You weren’t answering your phone,” Lancelot replied, shrugging. 

“So you came here?!” Arthur’s eyes briefly flickered towards Merlin, trying to read his expression. His roommate didn’t look worried or suspicious, although Arthur would have no idea why he would be either of those things. To him these were just two of his friends, two coworkers, not two fellow spies.

“It was a business emergency,” Lancelot said.

Emergency was not a word any of them took lightly. “Serious” was one thing, but emergency? Emergency was something else entirely. Emergency meant that something was really,  _ really  _ wrong.

“Is everything alright?” Merlin asked. Arthur had temporarily forgotten he was there so the sound of his voice made him jump.

“Probably, yeah. Just a problem at work.” Arthur hoped his smile was convincing. 

Gwaine had stopped the movie. While he’d been completely hypnotized by the screen before, his eyes were now sharp and alert. He knew how to pay attention when it was needed. The air of “idiocy” had made it so that people thought Gwaine was incompetent, but that could not have been more wrong. He was an amazing agent, and while it had taken a while for Gwaine to agree to join the Knights, all the trouble had so been worth it in the end.

Gwaine was taking everything in and then his gaze landed on Merlin. Arthur hated the way his eyes shifted. Analyzing mode quickly turned into flirt mode and that made something well up in Arthur that he most definitely didn’t like. 

_ Time to shut down the situation. _

“Hi,” Gwaine said, moving around the couch. “I’m-”

“Leaving!” Arthur cut in. “He’s leaving! We’re all leaving! Sorry, Merlin, if this is an emergency then I got to run. I’ll see you later!”

He was pushing his friends out the door before Merlin could even respond. It took some more force with Gwaine, but he gave in and allowed himself to be moved. They went through the doorframe and Arthur slammed the door shut with his foot. The shopping bags were still out there. Once they’d fully moved into the safety of the empty hall, Arthur faced his friends. 

  
“What happened?” 

_____________________

Merlin hadn’t needed Arthur’s friend to finish the sentence. He knew who he was. He knew who both of them were in fact. How could he not?

Gwaine and Lancelot, two of the Knights' most efficient, deadly, and overall best agents. They were a part of Arthur’s little team and Merlin had run into them a few times while in the field (excluding the other night). The two of them were genuinely amazing at their job.

_ What could have possibly warranted them coming here then? _

They obviously knew Arthur had a roommate. Neither of them had been surprised to see him and they’d purposefully been using evasive language. They’d most definitely just wanted Arthur’s attention, but Merlin couldn’t lie and say that he hadn’t thought they were here for him. Of course he’d bristle up at having two Knights in his living room, it was only natural. Still though… had that been suspicion directed towards him in Lancelot’s eyes?

No, it couldn’t have been. He had done absolutely nothing that would have warranted that. Standing wasn’t a crime, Merlin knew that. Regardless, something was wrong.

_ Maybe wrong enough for the Sorcerer’s to have contacted him.  _

He fished out his work phone and powered it on. His eyes widened at how many calls and messages he had. There were some from Gwen, some from Morgana, some from Mordred, and- 

_ One from Gaius. _

As fast as he could he pressed the little call icon next to Morgana’s contact. 

_____________________

  
  


“He’s not answering his phone.”

Morgana paced up and down Gwen’s office. She wouldn’t be surprised if she was creating an indent in the carpet with how long she’d been doing it and how fast. She was clutching onto her phone and glaring at it as if it was at fault for Merlin not answering.

“I’m sure he’s just busy,” Gwen said, picking at her nail polish on the couch. She seemed completely calm on the outside but Morgana knew her well enough to know she was really worried too (picking at her nail polish was one sign and the slightly wrinkled nose was another).

“What could have been important enough that he’d  _ turn off his phone??!?” _

“Hey, it’ll be ok.” Gwen held out her arms. “Come here, my love.”

Morgana huffed but was helpless to resist. She redirected her path and plopped down so her head was laying in her girlfriend's lap. Gwen began to run her fingers through her hair.

“What if something’s happened to him?” Morgana asked.

“Merlin knows how to take care of himself.”

“And what if a Knight got to him, huh? Or what if-”

“No,” Gwen said firmly, stopping Morgana’s thought spiral before it could begin. “Worrying will not help right now. Let’s give him another ten minutes before we can go looking for him ok?”

“Alright,” Morgana mumbled. She sat up and shifted herself so she was now sitting next to Gwen. Her girlfriend gave her a quick, yet soft kiss and Morgana snuggled into her warmth. Her head rested on her shoulder and Gwen then rested her own on Morgana’s. 

Morgana had never really known what the word “safety” truly meant. Her childhood had been nothing but danger and when she’d chosen the path to becoming a Sorcerer that danger hadn’t left. It had only grown, leaving Morgana on guard almost all the time. 

It was when Gwen came into her life that Morgana first learned what that word truly meant. Gwen made her feel  _ safe _ . It was like soaking up the rays of the sun, a feeling that left you filled with joy. Being with Gwen had always just been so right. They’d fitted together in a way that made it seem as if they’d been made that way. 

Morgana would follow Gwen to the ends of the Earth.

“I love you,” Morgana whispered in a tone that made it seem like it was a secret. 

_ It wasn’t. _

“I love you, too,” Gwen whispered back. They laced their fingers together and Morgana began to subconsciously stroke the side of Gwen’s hand with her thumb. 

_ God, they were so sappy.  _

They both jumped at the sound of Morgana’s phone ringing. Morgana was moving to pick it up before she could even fully register her actions, but in doing so she pushed it onto the floor. She scrambled to grab it, the case suddenly feeling very slippery. On the third ring she finally got it and pressed the “accept” button.

“Merlin?” She half-shouted, desperately hoping it was him.

“I’m so sorry, Morgana, I somehow left my phone on si-”

“That doesn’t matter. You’re an idiot but we got bigger fish to fry.”

“What do you mean?”

“Kilgharrah is back.”

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think Wednesday might be my update day but who knows.


	6. you and me got a whole lot of history

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kilgharrah's background and some pink glitter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i had to split this chapter into two parts because i literally wrote over 5000 words and there was no way that could just be one part

Kilgharrah was a legend.

Once upon a time he’d been a freelance assassin, bouncing between different agencies. He only ever cared about getting paid, not what agency it was or what the actual job entailed. Kilgharrah was merciless and his success streak was miles and miles long. If you ever found yourself at the end of his gun, you were screwed. He was truly the best of the best.

Around two decades ago he’d disappeared. No one knew why or how, only that he just went completely off the grid. He was searched for, sure, but if a spy like that didn’t want to be found, he wouldn’t be. It was as simple as that.

He’d been before Merlin’s time but that didn’t stop him from learning about Kilgharrah’s legacy. You couldn’t work in their profession without having heard of him. Hell, he’d even studied some of his jobs while training. 

Kilgharrah being back was bad. A man like that didn’t just come out of hiding for nothing. There was a reason, a big reason, and Merlin bet that every agency out there was scrambling to find out that reason (no one wanted to be that reason either).

It now made sense why Gwaine and Lancelot had been at his and Arthur’s apartment. Kilgharrah was enough to warrant a home visit like that. 

This wasn’t going to be fun. 

Merlin had rushed to find a taxi to take him to the Sorcerer’s HQ. The entire ride he’d been on edge, jumping at every car horn and loud noise. When they’d finally pulled in next to the shop, he’d shoved the money into the driver’s hand and sped inside. 

Freya was sitting at the reception desk but the bubbly-ness she normally possessed had vanished. Her face was set and solemn instead, a sight that made Merlin’s heart drop. She was scared and he hated that. 

“They’re in Room Three,” she murmured, slightly curled in on herself. Freya was fidgeting with the sleeve of her sweater, something Merlin had learned that meant she was anxious. He desperately wanted to tell her things would be OK but that would be a lie and they both knew it. 

Merlin instead gave her a small smile and rushed to Room Three. 

Room Three was one of their meeting rooms. The decor inside consisted entirely of a square table, two chairs set on each of the four sides. It was a very odd choice, but Gaius had taken a liking to it. He said it gave the room taste, which was nonsense but none of them were going to argue.

Everyone else was already there when he entered. Gwen and Morgana had taken up one side and across from them were Aithusa and Morgause. There was a single person on each of the two remaining sides, Nimueh being one and Mordred the other. Merlin instantly headed over to the chair next to Mordred’s (it was a no-brainer really). This meant that the seat next to Nimueh would be Gaius’s. 

“Finally,” Morgana hissed as he slid into the seat. She was on his left slightly diagonally, the corner of the table separating them. “Where the hell have you been?”

“I came as soon as I could,” he whisper-yelled, trying to keep his voice down low enough so that no one else would hear. It was a small room though and everyone else could definitely hear. Aithusa and Morgause were having a soft conversation too but it was obvious they were still paying attention. 

“Would you look at that,” Nimueh drawled. “Merlin slacking off. I’m not surprised.”

He wanted to hiss at her again. Gwen somehow seemed to know this and gave him a warning look. Seeing as she could be equally as terrifying as her girlfriend, Merlin shut up.

It was perfect timing though as Gaius took that moment to step into the room. His face was grave and they all sat up straighter at the sight of him. 

“I’m presuming you all know what this meeting is for?”

A chorus of nods.

“Good. Then let’s begin.”

Gaius took the seat next to Nimueh.

“Twelve hours ago ex-assassin Kilgharrah was spotted at a press conference with the prime minister of Mercia. He was one of the bodyguards just within shot of the camera. Of course we are to presume this set-up was on purpose, as Kilgharrah is highly trained and would only be seen if he wanted to be. It’s unclear as to why he has returned, but we cannot ignore the threat he poses to us. I’ve already heard of some agencies beginning to try and hire him. For now it seems he has a specific goal in mind and we must pray that that goal has nothing to do with us. Our job now is to overall try and collect as much information as we can. 

“Aithusa, use every technological resource we have at our disposal to see if you can spot him via facial recognition or other such programs. Look at places he’s been known to stake out in in the past. Mordred, please assist her. Morgause, I want you to look through our physical records and see if any new unclaimed assassination cases lately show details of his style. There is a chance he may have been back longer than we thought. Nimueh, gather some of our other top agents and create a battle strategy. A plan needs to be made for every little thing that could possibly go wrong. Gwen, coordinate weapons and make sure we have enough resources for a potential fight. Finally, Merlin and Morgana, I want you two physically out on the field. Spread out and search as much of Albion as you can. If you find something, Aithusa, Mordred, or Morgause, immediately relay that information to Merlin and Morgana so they can check it out. Are we clear?”

Seven in-sync nods.

“Good. Dismissed.”

The others filed out, but Merlin lingered behind. It might have seemed to other people that Gaius had everything together, that he was fine with the Kilgharrah-situation, but Merlin wasn’t just “another person”. He knew Gaius too well to fall for the calm demeanor he put on. 

“Are you alright?” Merlin said, coming to stand by his mentor’s side.

“Of course I am,” Gaius replied, putting on a tired smile. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Because you knew him.”

Gaius sighed, rubbing his temples. His facade was beginning to crumble and Merlin could see just how exhausted he was.

“I shouldn’t have told you that.”

“Ah here’s the thing though, you didn’t tell me. I figured it out. You aren’t as sneaky as you think, Gaius.”

He got a raised eyebrow at that. Maybe that had been a slight exaggeration, seeing as Gaius ran one of the most successful spy organizations in the history of Albion.

“You can talk about it, you know,” Merlin whispered, hopping onto the table and swinging his legs over the edge. Gaius gave him a disapproving look but didn’t tell him to get down.

“There isn’t much to say,” Gaius muttered, sitting back in his chair. “I knew Kilgharrah a long, long time ago. Back then there weren’t many things that separated Sorcerers and Knights. We worked together in peace. It was Kilgharrah that broke the tie. Of course on the outside different reasons were blamed, but at its core he was responsible for the divide.”

Merlin hummed, letting Gaius say what he needed to say. As much as this was about his mentor getting things off his chest, Merlin was also extremely curious about his answers. He loved learning about Gaius’ past and he loved being nosy.

“Kilgharrah wasn’t as neutral as you may think he was. He was attracted to whoever paid the most, but he hated the Knights. He rarely ever took jobs from them, and if he did it was usually a collaboration with another agency. No one truly knows why he hated Uther so much, but…”

Gaius groaned, leaning back on the chair. Tension was slowly fading out of his body but anxiety still surrounded him. Considering the situation that wasn’t a surprise. He held so much weight on his shoulders, definitely more than he should. Merlin knew Gaius blamed himself for a lot of things that weren’t his fault and it drained him. 

“I have my suspicions.” Gaius chuckled in a sad, bitter way. “Regardless, you have a job to do. Start in upper Albion and tell Morgana to go to lower. Dismissed.” 

Merlin bowed his head slightly and got ready. 

__________

  
  


Morgana had five different motorcycles. 

She’d taken the one with the subtle purple streak and left him with her oldest, most broken down one. Merlin didn’t mind though because he always felt so cool riding her bikes. Actually being a spy was nothing like it was in the movies but he was so ready for that action shot of him riding down the highway in the mountains, hair waving around in the wind, badass sunglasses on. His jacket would be billowing out behind him and the sun would hit him just right, lighting up his face. 

If only that was actually the case.

Merlin had spent the last four hours just driving around. He’d gone to the highest class neighbourhoods to the ones most riddled with poverty. He smelled like trash, but also that weird scent that came with neatly-kept parks. He was sweating really bad too (which was one thing the movies definitely did not show). Merlin so desperately wanted to go home and shower. He’d texted Arthur and told him he wasn’t going to be back that night but he hadn’t gotten a response yet. 

In other words, he was so done.

Of course that was when things began to pick up. The comm in his ear chimed, notifying it had been activated. Aithusa’s staticky voice came through.

“I’ve pinged two locations on opposite sides of the city. I sent Morgana to the old movie theatre and you’re going to the abandoned warehouse by the docks. Not sure what will actually be there, but I guess you’ll find out soon. Good luck!”

He did not want to do this anymore.

_ Joy. _

______________

  
  


It was beginning to grow dark when he got there. There were two or three warehouses at the end of the dock but Merlin already knew which he needed to go into. It was the warehouse on the very end, the one that looked the most creepy and most abandoned. 

  
“Great,” Merlin muttered, pulling up beside it and shutting down the motorcycle. He un-straddled it, taking off his helmet and placing it on the bike’s seat. He wasn’t sure he believed in ghosts but if any place were to be haunted it would be this one.

“‘Sure,’” he continued to grumble, walking towards the open doors. It felt so ominous and he hated it. “‘No, I don’t mind at all, Aithusa. Of course, you can give the normal one to Morgana. Oh, I didn’t have a choice? You were going to give me this location regardless? Well that’s just swell.’”

Inside it wasn’t as dark as he thought. Although it did still give off major “murder-house” vibes, somehow there was something comforting about the open space.

There really wasn’t much around. Two parallel catwalks ran across the insides of the building, but there were no stairs to be seen. A complex of lights hung down from the ceiling except most of the bulbs were smashed. He spotted a switch to his left, but he wasn’t up for being electrocuted right now. 

Annnnnddddd that was definitely a small family of rats scurrying across the floor. Wonderful.

He followed each wall, walking the inside perimeter. A few boxes had been piled up in one corner and there was trash almost everywhere. He kicked an old Coca-cola can and watched it skid across the floor with a lot more interest than it was worth. He headed over to the boxes, thinking there might be at least something interesting in there. Kilgharrah obviously wasn’t here so he might as well explore.

  
Box #1 had nothing in it. Box #2 was the same. Box #3 however… at the very bottom there was a bright pink, sparkly photo album.

How the hell had that gotten there?

He propped the top open with one hand and with the other he reached in and took it out. Glitter was already sticking to his skin which was great. He loved having pink glitter hands. It was very badass.

Merlin didn’t know what he’d been expecting when he opened it. Maybe some kind of weird family album? A bunch of bird pictures? Some food snaps? It had to be slightly not-normal though because it was in the middle of an abandoned warehouse.

Never in his wildest dreams could he have ever imagined that it was a bunch of pictures of him. There were some of him on missions, a few with Morgana and then with Gwen, and then a ton of ones at his apartment… with Arthur. 

What the fuck?

Merlin’s hands were shaking as he held it. He’d been scared before, of course he had, but this… He was terrified. Everything else faded away and all he could think was those same three words over and over again.

_ What the fuck what the fuck what the fuck what the fuck what the fuck what the fuck what the fuck what the fuck what the fuck what the fuck what the fuck- _

“Hello, Merlin.”

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yes yes i know another cliffhanger. this chapter wasn't the best but it picks up the next one


	7. ouch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Merlin makes some guesses and is not very smart

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> enjoy! :)

He was in such shock that it took a second for him to realize that someone had spoken. It took another second for him to realize someone had spoken  _ his _ name. He moved in a slow 180, a part of him not even wanting to do that. Maybe if he stayed frozen in one spot then all of this could just stay not-real. It would just be a bad nightmare.

But his feet betrayed him. He moved and came to face the source of the voice. It was-

“Kilgharrah.”

_ This wasn’t real. This wasn’t real. This wasn’t real. There was no way this could be real. _   
  


“Hello, Merlin,” Kilgharrah said, repeating himself. He was smirking, standing in the doorway so Merlin couldn’t get out without passing him. 

“How the hell do you know my name?” 

Merlin slowly inched his hand into his jacket, towards his gun, hoping that Kilgharrah wouldn’t notice. That was of course a much too optimistic assumption and Kilgharrah pulled his own gun before Merlin could reach his. Really not wanting to get shot, he held up his hands.

“I know a lot about you,” Kilgharrah said, casually moving closer. “Merlin Emrys, the only son of Hunith and Balinor. You were born in the small town of Ealdor, where you grew up training with your mother. You never got to meet your father as he died before you were born. You came to Albion fourteen months ago and moved almost immediately in with Arthur Pendragon, the son of Uther Pendragon, head of the Knights of Camelot. You’re a Sorcerer. I believe you’re close friends with Guinevere and Morgana, two other Sorcerers as well. When you were a young boy you saw your best friend, William, killed in a shootout between two Knights. You hadn’t originally wanted to follow the footsteps of your father, but that gave you the push you needed to become a Sorcerer. When your mother thought you were ready she sent you off to Gaius, her brother.”

Merlin’s mouth was incredibly dry. How did he know that much? How did he know about William? And how did he know Gaius was his mother’s brother? No one, not even Morgana knew that.

“Why do you know so much about me?”

“Hand over the gun, Merlin,” Kilgharrah said, ignoring the question. He paused for a second and then continued with, “Actually just hand me the jacket. I don’t want you thinking that you can one-up me like that.”

Merlin scowled but did as he was told. He shrugged off his leather jacket (yes, he had a leather jacket and yes, he liked it so he wasn’t about to risk losing it), and tossed it across the floor. Kilgharrah, making sure the gun was still trained on Merlin, picked it up and threw it behind him. 

“Alright then, now we can talk. I think it’s about time we met,” Kilgharrah smirked. The light that was coming in from outside illuminated him, slightly darkening Merlin’s view of him and making him seem even more creepy (if that was possible). He could just about make out the color of his eyes, one brown and the other green.

“Why? Are you going to kill me? Is that why you’re here?” 

Kilgharrah snorted. “I’m not here to kill you. You’d already be dead if I did.”

“Yeah and I’m totally supposed to believe that. Why the hell would I trust anything you say? You’re an assassin.”

“How could I win your trust then?” Kilgharrah said, smiling. It wasn’t a friendly smile though, nor was there anything gentle about it. Hell, it wasn’t even really a smile. It was him showing his teeth, the same way a tiger did when stalking its prey. 

“Let me ask you five questions,” Merlin said, somehow finding a spark of confidence within. “Five questions and you have to answer each one of them truthfully. I’m not up to your level, but I’m not stupid nor am I bad at my job. I’ll know if you lie.”

The teeth-baring smile seemed to get bigger. “Three.”

“Four,” Merlin bargained.

“Three and that is my final offer. I don’t have to let you out those doors you know.”

“Fine. Three questions.”

He paused for a second, contemplating. There were so many questions he had, all swirling around in his head, but he needed to pick out the three he wanted answered the most. It was hard, but they slowly came to him.

“Am I the reason you came out of hiding?”

Kilgharrah raised an eyebrow. “No.”

“Bullshit. You have an album of photos of me. They’re recent photos too. You don’t have the time to go around stalking every agent out there.”

“Fair enough, but that wasn’t your question. Your question implies that I ever went into hiding.”

“You vanished for two decades, I’d call that hiding,” Merlin snarked back. 

“We must have different definitions of hiding. Next question.” Kilgharrah sounded so smug and Merlin wanted nothing more than to punch him.

_ Shit. Be smarter, Merlin. Don’t let him win. You aren’t an amateur, you know how to do this.  _

He couldn’t straight out ask why Kilgharrah had that album. He wasn’t going to answer big, open-ended questions like that with proper answers. What Merlin needed were small pieces of the puzzle, at least until he could begin to see the bigger picture.

“How do you know about William? My mother was the only one I ever told. There were no records either so someone must have told you.”

This Kilgharrah took a second to answer. He seemed to be carefully picking his words, making sure whatever he said next was the most cryptic thing he could say while still telling the truth. 

“You haven’t been as alone as you think,” Kilgharrah finally replied. “Sometimes the wind carries secrets that only those who pay attention can hear.”

_ Bingo.  _

“How did you know my father?”

Surprise flashed across Kilgharrah’s face for a split second, but it was gone before it had ever really been there. Merlin hadn’t missed it though and he clung onto that expression like a lifeline. 

“What makes you think I knew him?” His voice was completely neutral. Uninterested. Uncaring.

“My father died before I was born, sure, but he knew about me. My mother told me he left before she could tell him she was pregnant, but I don’t think that’s true. Mum wasn’t a spy, I know that for certain. She wasn’t a spy and yet she trained me like she had been one. She had the perfect routine that made me excel in the skills I would need to be a Sorcerer, but also pushed me beyond that. She knew exactly at what point I should be sent to live in Albion with Gaius too. It was almost like she’d hit the end of a pre-made plan. 

My guess is that my dad left her instructions. He knew he was going to have a child, but didn’t want to be around so as to not put me in danger. In case I ever ended up like him, he told my mum what to do.”

Merlin took in a deep breath and continued. “My father was a dangerous man with many enemies. He would have made sure that if he were to die I wouldn’t have been left without protection growing up. He wanted someone else to watch over me and he ended up picking you. 

My father didn’t trust you. He would have been an idiot if he had. You owed him a debt and he made you swear to look after me.

You disappeared around the time I was born. You haven’t been in hiding, you were just watching over me. I don’t know what debt he had you in, but it must have been pretty big for you to disappear off the grid for this long, not taking a single job.”

All of that had been a guess. Sure he’d suspected the bit about his father knowing about his birth before, but tying Kilgharrah into it was just a big leap into the deep end. He could be an entire ocean off, but his gut told him he wasn’t. 

_ He could begin to see the picture. _

Kilgharrah wasn’t answering. His face was equivalent to stone, no trace of any kind of emotion or thought. Merlin took this as a sign to continue, to tie everything together.

“What I can’t figure out is why the hell you’re making yourself known now. What’s happened that led you back into the spotlight again and what made you come face to face with me? It’s obvious you wanted me to find you and you wanted me to know you’ve been watching me. No one creates a photo album of creepy pictures for just anyone.”

Merlin was almost out of breath. He’d said everything in such a hurry, as if his thoughts would disappear right as he was about to say them. They’d been rushed, sure, but still very, very understandable.

Now he waited.

“You truly are your father’s son,” Kilgharrah finally said. His face gave nothing away about how he was feeling.

“So I’m right? You have been protecting me this whole time?”

“Maybe. May I ask how the hell you figured all of that out? The answers I provided for your first two questions surely weren’t enough.”

“I connected the dots. If you weren’t in hiding for two decades then you must have been playing the long-con. What job would have been worth that though? You didn’t pick up any other gigs in those years, not at least that we know of. You were solely dedicated to this one cause. The problem is you don’t seem like a guy who’d settle down for that long. No one has enough money either to pay for an expert such as yourself on a job like that. The only logical explanation then is that someone called in a favor. It must have been a pretty big favor too.

And then there’s William. Why would anyone be watching me like that? I was eight and as far as I knew, my father hadn’t told anyone about me. There was no paper trail either that led towards my mother. My father did die before I was born so it couldn’t have been him. So, logical conclusion again, he made sure I wasn’t alone. ‘The wind carries secrets that only those who pay attention can hear?’ One, that’s such edgy bullshit. Two, you were basically admitting that you’d been watching me. It was easy.”

“So in other words, you guessed,” Kilgharrah said, crossing his arms.

“Yeah, I guessed,” Merlin admitted sheepishly.

Kilgharrah looked vaguely impressed. While Merlin was still very on edge, that was definitely the proudest moment of his life. A long time ago Kilgharrah had been his hero, which was very depressing (he’d moved on from that phase quickly).

“Very well. I suppose I’ll tell you the truth in due time, but right now I don’t think you’re ready.”

“Try me,” Merlin said, trying to stand up a little taller so he could reach Kilgharrah’s height. He wasn’t a kid and he didn’t want to be seen as one in the other spies’ eyes. 

“Being stubborn isn’t going to change my mind. I’ll start with this though: you’re in danger. There’s a lot more at play here than you think and my suggestion is that you step back from this scene for awhile.”

“I can take care of myself.” 

“Not now, not like this. You need to be careful, Merlin Emrys. There is only so much I can do.”

“What the fuck does that mean?” Merlin suddenly half-yelled, surprising even himself. He didn’t even know anger had been rising within him. “I am so tired of all the confusing, obscure answers! Do you have any idea how frustrating this is for me? So much that I have come to accept as reality has now turned out to be false and I don’t even have the time to process that! Not now and probably not for awhile! I can’t lie to Gaius or Morgana but there’s no way either of them can know about this. I’ll have to pretend until I figure something out and meanwhile this encounter has only left me with more questions! I can take care of myself! I don’t need your bullshit answers or warnings!”

Now he was really out of breath. He felt kind of like a balloon that had a hole poked in it and was slowly releasing air. He hadn’t noticed he was still clutching onto the album, but the harsh texture was what grounded him. It had been rubbing against his arm and a red mark was left over, but he didn’t care. The pink glitter didn’t even matter anymore.

Without thinking (because that was his default apparently) Merlin dropped the album and ducked right hard. Kilgharrah, who’d been put slightly off-guard by his outburst, reacted a second too late. Merlin rolled into his movement, using it to gain more momentum. His hand shot out and grabbed a stray smashed beer bottle. It cut his hand slightly but he didn’t care. The gunshot that went off, missing him by only an inch, only pushed him harder. In a practiced, swift motion he turned his hand so the beer bottle neck was clutched between his thumb and index finger.

With as much force as he could, Merlin swiped it across Kilgharrah’s leg. The roar of pain he got in return was very satisfying.

Kilgharrah clutched his leg, doubling slightly over. His pant leg had been cut and Merlin could see the material around it growing dark with his blood. Merlin took the chance to jab his elbow into the other man’s side and when Kilgharrah extra extra doubled over, he yanked the gun out of his hand. If he stopped, even for a second, Kilgharrah would recover. He may have made a promise to protect him, but Merlin had just hurt him and probably pissed him off as well. Killing Merlin would not be a stretch for him. 

He ran as fast as his legs could manage. On the way he scooped up his jacket (it really was his favorite) and then somehow managed to sprint even faster. Maybe his jacket was actually magical and it had given him some extra strength. 

On another note: he had to go and he had to go now. 

When Merlin heard the footsteps behind him, he clutched the gun tighter and blindly aimed behind him and pulled the trigger. It didn’t hit Kilgharrah, but it made him falter.

It was enough. 

Or ok, it was almost enough.

Merlin had sort of momentarily forgotten that other weapons besides a gun existed so when he heard the whistle behind him it didn't worry him. He got worried however when a knife embedded itself into the left of his lower back. 

_ Tonight was going just swimmingly. _

It burned like hell and every inch of his back felt like it was on fire, but he’d been through worse. He could deal with it later. 

_ If he didn’t pass out  _ **_or_ ** _ bleed to death in between. _

He reached Morgana’s motorbike and expertly swung his right leg over the seat. It dug the knife even deeper but oh well. Merlin turned it on, flipped up the stand with his foot, and then he was off. A frustrated yell came from where he’d been not even a second before and Merlin swore he felt fingers trying to latch onto the back of his shirt.

It didn’t matter. Merlin was gone. 

As much as he wanted too, he didn’t dare look back. Doing that would be pushing his luck. What he’d done was so incredibly stupid, but it had worked, and that was enough messing with chance. No more big moves for him, not for awhile. Hell, right now all he wanted to do was not be Merlin Emrys. Give that name and that life to someone else for a bit. When things had calmed down he could take them back.

It wasn’t until he’d reached the middle of the city that he dared to slow down. He’d been as discreet as he could, especially because he had a knife sticking out of his back and that would definitely draw attention. Even if Kilgharrah had somehow followed him he wouldn’t be dumb enough to confront him in a crowd of people.

None of that night seemed real and thinking that this morning Merlin had been shopping for peanut butter with Arthur was insane. So much had happened in between and damnit, had this been a dream?

Unless his dream was hyper-realistic, the pain in his side ruined any illusion of that.

What Merlin just couldn’t do right then was go be back to his and Arthur’s apartment. He couldn’t face his roommate, not now. Merlin wasn’t up for that intense kind of lying at the moment. Instead he let his brain guide him a few blocks down from where he lived and to a small area of houses. He stopped in front of a little brick one, and turned off the engine. Muscle memory made him pull out a set of keys from his jacket and fit the right one into the lock. Only half-awake, he navigated through the dimly-lit house and to where he knew the couch was. In another moment of brilliance, he twisted around so he could grab the knife’s handle and pulled it out.

Merlin wasn’t sure whether the added blood loss or exhaustion caused it, but he was out before his head fully hit one of the cushions. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> is this a cliffhanger? does this count?


	8. What We Were

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Merlin's heartbreaks just a little more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IM SO SORRY my original chapter got deleted so I had to restart this chapter and then I lost motivation so that's why this is very late. Anyways enjoy!

Getting stabbed and then waking up was akin to getting drunk and having a hangover the next morning. Both left you extremely disoriented and in pain. You briefly forgot what had happened leading up to the stabbing/drinking. The side effects of both contained the disappearing will to live.

It could be argued though that getting stabbed was worse.

Merlin always hated getting stabbed, which he supposed was a valid response to having a sharp object physically go into your body. He’d been stabbed with a range of different… “instruments” too. There’d been an actual  _ sword  _ on one end and the other a butter knife. He’d been pushed onto that last one from high up so it had easily given the pavement a good 30% of his blood (the pavement had been looking kind of bleak. He considered it to be a makeover).

But this time it felt different. From the second his eyes opened, he was greeted by an intense sense of panic. It was like it’d just been waiting for Merlin to wake up, and now that he was it was determined to suffocate him in it. A danger sign kept on flashing in his head, the visual blinding and-

It felt like he’d been poisoned.

_ He’d been poisoned. _

**_Fuck._ **

Merlin shot up from his face-down position on the couch. He looked a tad bit like a caterpillar with the first half of his body elevated but the other half still laying down. It was only when he was fully sitting with his back to one corner of the couch that he realized just how much pain his body was in.

The entire left side of his body burned. Random parts of his back were numb and he couldn’t lift his shoulder without wanting to scream. Merlin supposed the first part was due to what definitely was poison, but things still felt wrong. The symbol was still burning his brain, but what else was there? What was he forgetting?

The events of last night slowly popped up one by one day. They worked in reverse, so the memory of Aithusa sending him to the docks was the first that reignited. It must have taken no more than a few seconds, but Merlin felt like he was reliving each minute. 

Finally, the fog lifted on the last parts of the evening and he was able to see more clearly what occurred AFTER he’d be stabbed. Specifically, he was able to remember where he’d gone.

**_Double fuck._ **

Merlin scrambled to stand, a sense of such intense urgency filling his body that it overrode everything. His clumsiness seemed to multiply then because he only succeeded in tumbling to the ground and knocking his nose hard against the floorboards.

“Ouch,” A voice said, sourcing from right next to Merlin’s ear. “You’ve got to stop hurting yourself, my friend.”

“Leave me alone,” Merlin grumbled out, now even more exhausted.

“Sorry, no can do. When you do eventually die, I expect it to be epicly on a battlefield, not suffocating in my bargain-priced couch.”

With the last of his energy, Merlin lifted his hand from the ground and stuck out his middle finger.

He got a heartfilled laugh in response. Merlin almost forgot about the severity of the situation at the sound, falling back into the calm demeanor that only showed up around people he cared about. 

Keyword: almost.

“Hey, you should be grateful. I saved your life.”

“Kind of wished you’d just let me die. Considering you’re a Knight, Gwaine, that would have probably looked very good for you.”

Gwaine, ever the arse, snorted. He reached out a hand and helped pull Merlin back onto the couch.

“Please, if I wanted to rat you out I would have already. I was in your apartment earlier, remember?”

“How could I forget, you arse? You gave me no warning and I had to pretend like we haven’t known each other for a year. Do you know how hard that was?

“I had to go get Arthur and it wasn’t like I could say no. They’d get suspicious.” It was then that Gwaine noticed the fresh blood welling up on Merlin’s side. “No,” He groaned. “You pulled your stitches. I’m going to have to redo them.”

“Oh boo hoo,” Merlin complained. “You’re not the one who got stabbed!”

“Speaking of,” his friend said, already searching for new medical supplies. “How the hell did you manage that? It’s a pretty nasty wound too.”

Merlin shrugged, feigning innocence. He regretted doing it instantly though, as the movement made him go back to the “i'm-in-a-lot-of-pain-because-i've-been-stabbed-by-a-poisoned-knife” feeling. 

“Hurting yourself further is not a valid answer. I’m guessing you were searching for the mystical, magical Kilgharrah too? So it probably has something to do with that right?” 

“Wow, I’m so impressed, Sherlock. However did you figure that out?”

“Rude. Do I have to remind you  _ again  _ that I am the reason you are still breathing? And you’re lucky I have a sensor on my house door so I know when it’s been opened, because I wasn’t planning on coming back here for a while.” Gwaine plopped down next to Merlin and made him turn sideways so he could redo the stitches.

“Oh thank you, my mighty lord and savior. I shall forever be in your debt.” Merlin was tempted to bow but that would have only caused further pain. 

They were bantering, sure, but both of them saw the bitterness it was laced with. Deep down their words came from echoing pits which called back out the longing that sounded within them. A part of Merlin hated the fact that he’d come here. It was the reason why he'd been so desperate to leave before being discovered. His delirious brain still thought of here as  _ safe,  _ a delusion that was very dangerous. No matter how hard he tried he couldn’t rewire that part though. 

“I’m the one who owes you, Merlin.” Gwaine’s words were gentler now. Merlin hated it. 

“We’ve been over this,” Merlin half-snarled. He scooted as far down the couch as he could, trying to get away from Gwaine’s sudden overwhelming presence. “You owe me nothing.” 

“That’s such bullshit. After what I did… I could never repay that debt.”

“And what?! That’s supposed to make up for it?!?!”

They’d had this conversation so many times before and it had always ended the same way. It was a hurricane of anger, regret, and sadness. Missed Opportunities were mixed in too and a smidge of What Could Have Been swirled around and around and around. Merlin and Gwaine were their own kind of destruction. A storm that passed by in the night when no one else was awake. A stray ship in the middle of the ocean, powered by the lapsing of the waves. It was only when you awoke to total destruction and chaos that you realized it had been there in the first place.

Merlin took in What Could Have Been. The wound on his back was nothing compared to the pain of it. It was still so fresh and a part of him wanted to step back into it. How good would it feel To Go Back? 

But this had come from nowhere, hadn’t it? The sudden tidal wave of emotions. No warnings. No preparation.

Just straight in.

_ Head first. _

Awaking.

“How many times am I going to have to apologize for that?” Gwaine half-shouted. He was getting irritated, getting sucked into the storm as well.

“This wasn’t just some small thing Gwaine! You didn’t break something of mine or say something mean!”

Merlin jumped up, ignoring the deafening pain from the stab wound. He was pretty sure that Gwaine hadn’t known it was poisoned too, because the dizziness that came from the action definitely wasn’t normal. 

He didn’t care though.

He continued.

“We were friends, we were Something, and then you went and joined the Knights! After all they had done to me and the people I loved, you became one of them! How the fuck am I suppose to get over that?”

Gwaine jumped up to meet him, forcing Merlin to take a few steps back. He wanted to put more feet between them, but it was like they had some kind of magnetic pull. 

“I had to, Merlin! Arthur made the offer and I took it, because I had nothing else! He gave me a home and a life! You have to remember he saved my life too and I owed him a debt.”

“So I wasn’t good enough for you,” Merlin whispered, trying not to sound as hurt as he was. “You were my friend first, Gwaine. I had you first and we were good. We were so good and yes, I know he saved your life. You were a stray agent, but don’t act like I never made an offer for you to join the Sorcerers. You joined the Knights because it gave you more of a title. Arthur spared your life on that mission and when you saved his own later on, you saw the glory you could have.”

“Merlin, you know that’s not true,” Gwaine protested, reaching forward to grab Merlin’s hand. Merlin refused though, and pushed Gwaine away.

_ Don’t cry don’t cry don’t cry don’t cry if you cry he will know how much you still care does that matter he already knows you’re supposed to have forgotten come on Merlin- _

“An apology is not going to fix this, Gwaine. Coming here was a mistake.” His voice cracked. The tears welled up.

_ God fucking dammnit. _

They were a single kite floating away on a warm, fresh summer day. Merlin could still see those vibrant colors that somehow fit together on the kite, contrasted in a way that made you want to look closer. It was only when you were plummeting down to the rocks below that you realized you’d followed it off a cliff. 

Merlin was fading. Everything was becoming slightly more fuzzy, but he held on. He wasn’t done.

“I think I loved you, Gwaine, and I think you loved me too. We could have been so much more, but you let us slip away.” 

Merlin chuckled. What was supposed to sound cheerful or happy came out raw and broken.

“Merlin…”

“It doesn’t matter. Whatever you’re going to say and whatever I still feel doesn’t matter. Do you want to know why?”

“Why?” Gwaine’s voice was so small and hurt and it made Merlin’s heartbreak even more.

“Because I don’t need you anymore.”

_ Because I have Arthur. _

_ Because you are What Could Have Been. _

_ Because he is What Could Be. _

The world glitched. Merlin was gone.

The last thing he could think before passing out was:

_ I got the last word this time. _

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So yeah that happened. This chapter also kind of made itself and it morphed into angst without me planning it? I have set plans while writing but then things get added I never originally intended so I'm just going with the flow.
> 
> (Sidenote if you have any recommendations or feedback let me know! Comment! Perhaps!)


	9. friends on the other side pt. i

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AHHHHHHHHHHHH i'm so sorry this was ANOTHER late chapter and because of that I'm going to update again on Wednesday (like usual). I hope you maybe enjoy this very crappy, very rushed chapter!

So. You have a best friend. A person you would kill for. A person you _HAVE_ killed for. A platonic soulmate (you’re a lesbian so ew). He knows you better than you know yourself. He saved you from yourself. You love him (again, platonically).

So. If an enemy agent walks in carry said best friend (who is unconscious and very, very pale), how would you react?

Morgana would argue a warning gunshot an inch away from Gwaine’s head was warranted.

“What the fuck, Morgana?” Gwaine yelled, almost losing his grip on Merlin (who he was carrying bridal-style).

“Did you kill him?” Morgana asked through gritted teeth.

“No! Of course not! If I had, why would I have called you?”

Morgana advanced, slightly less on guard, but the gun stayed pointed at the Knight. Taking her right hand (and only her right hand) off the weapon, she placed her middle and index finger on Merlin’s neck.

The pulse there, although not quite beating steadily, made Morgana holster her gun.

“What happened?”

Morgana helped Gwaine lay Merlin on the sofa. It was covered in dust, despite Morgana’s best efforts to clean the place up a bit when she’d arrived. It was a safe house of hers, one that she rarely used. It had been the only place she’d felt comfortable meeting Gwaine, an enemy agent (even if they did have a temporary truce). 

“He got stabbed in the back. I stitched it up, but I didn’t realize he’d been poisoned too.”

Worry bloomed inside her. It unfurled and wrapped around her heart, squeezing it till her chest hurt. 

Morgana had always hated how much she could care. It was like a weed that refused to go away no matter how many times you dug it out of the ground.

_ How the hell had he managed to get stabbed? _

Merlin must have run into an opposing agent while searching for Kilgharrah. It was the only reasonable explanation, unless he’d managed to stab  _ himself _ with a poisoned knife. For a brief second the thought that maybe he’d found Kilgharrah appeared, but she squashed it before it could gain any weight. If Merlin had met Kilgharrah, he would be dead. 

Morgana grabbed the bag she’d brought with her. At the very bottom was a small box. She pulled it out and opened the lid, revealing a space filled with different vials. The colors of the liquids ranged greatly and none of them gave away what the potion might be used for. 

She picked a slim vial filled with a blinding neon pink concoction. 

Morgana screwed off the cap and was immediately hit by the smell of burning toast. She wrinkled her nose at it and did her best to not gag.

“Open his mouth,” she instructed Gwaine, taking a seat on a spare section of sofa. 

He obeyed and Morgana hovered slightly over Merlin, concentrating. She tilted the vial until a steady stream of the liquid poured down Merlin’s throat.

“There,” she said, picking the cap back up and twisting it back on. Half of the potion was gone, but it hadn’t been that big of a container to begin with. 

“What was that?” Gwaine asked.

“A potion of Gaius’s. It’s meant to treat a variety of less powerful poisons and if Merlin has managed to hold out for this long I’m hoping this will just do the job.”

“So he’ll be alright?”

“Maybe. Maybe not. You did a good job of stopping the bleeding but if the poison doesn’t dissipate then we’ll be in trouble.”

Gwaine collapsed into a chair opposite the couch. He looked exhausted and Morgana could see the same lines of worry on her face mirrored on his. 

“It’s times like these where I wish we could go to hospitals,” Gwaine sighed. “It would be so much easier than this game of ‘let’s see who can keep Merlin alive the longest’.” 

“If only it were that easy. Can you imagine the kind of questions we’d get through? With all our scars…,” Morgana trailed off. “We have a pretty good medical team though and I don’t know why the hell he went to you instead of us.”

“Wow, that totally didn’t sound bitter,” Gwaine snorted. He was trying to come off as joking but the anxiety he radiated destroyed any chances of that. 

“I don’t care if I sound bitter. He went to an enemy agent. He went to a Knight. He went to YOU. Why the hell did he do that? Did he want to get killed?”

“You’re jealous he didn’t go to you,” Gwaine said. The way he’d worded it might have made it sound malicious, but there was nothing malicious about it. His voice was curious and in the end it was more a question than a statement. 

“Yes, ok!” Morgana jumped up. Anger was racing through her veins, shocks of lightning hitting every nerve, and she hated it. She hated how easily she was losing control. “I’m jealous! What made him choose you over me? Why are you so important to him?”

“You don’t know?” Gwaine asked, tilting his head to the side. God, the casual tone in his voice made Morgana want to punch him.

“No! I don’t! I wouldn’t be asked these questions if I did!”

“He loved me and I loved him back with all my heart..”

His voice was small, but the impact of the words stole Morgana’s breath. It took her a second to properly process them and when they did sink in it only made her more confused.

“No,” Morgana said, crossing her arms. “There’s no way. If that were true, Merlin would have told me.”

Until then Morgana had been towering over Gwaine, standing while he was sitting, but as the sound of her last words died out, he shot up. Gwaine’s eyes mirrored her already burning ones and the anger that radiated off them both was searing. She’d ignited a fire inside of him without meaning to, but she didn’t care. Flames had been roaring inside of her too for a while. 

“Merlin exists beyond you!” Gwaine spat. “He’s his own person and he has his own life. You really think you know everything about him? You think he just hands you all his secrets? STOP BEING SO DELUSIONAL MORGANA AND WAKE THE FUCK UP.”

_ More kindling arrived.  _

“OH, I’M THE DELUSIONAL ONE? LOOK AT YOU! DON'T YOU DARE CLAIM TO KNOW HIM BETTER THAN ME! GOD!” She laughed, a cold and bitter sound. “I knew he’d had a pretty bad breakup, but I didn’t know it was  _ you.  _ He was a wreck for days, you know that? Merlin didn’t eat, didn’t sleep. He could barely get out of bed. How dare you do that to him and then claim you still care? How dare you make it seem like I’m the bad guy here? You  _ broke  _ him and I was there to help pick up the pieces!”

“That doesn’t mean you get to be entitled to know everything about him! Yes, I fucked up and I’m willing to admit that, but you? You act like you’re the only person in his life. Maybe he went to me because he was too suffocated by you!”

Morgana slapped him. 

He hit her back. 

Soon enough the two of them were full on fighting, aiming punches and kicking with practiced agility. Her fist connected with his jaw hard, but in retaliation he slammed his knuckles against her nose. It hurt like a bitch, but she’d experienced worse. 

Gwaine knew what he was doing, but so did she. They were evenly matched, and as much as Morgana loved being able to kick Knights asses, this wasn’t going to go anywhere. Her adrenaline was fading and the rage that had filled her was going to lead nowhere. She needed to stop this.

When he next went to punch her, she stepsided it and backed away entirely instead of getting closer. Gwaine stumbled, not having expected the sudden open space, but after a second he got it too. 

_ They were done. _

Morgana spat out a wad of blood that had welled up in her mouth (courtesy of the split lip).“Get out,” she said, chest heaving with the effort of trying to regain air. “Get out of here and if you tell anyone about this or what happened to Merlin, I will find you and I will kill you. Clear?”

“Crystal,” Gwaine said, equally as out of breath.

The Knight glanced briefly at Merlin and that was when Morgana truly saw it. The way he looked at him… God, they really had been in love, hadn’t they? Gwaine’s heart may have belonged to Merlin, but she knew that Merlin’s had belonged to Gwaine too.

_ The keyword in that sentence was “had”. _

As Gwaine shut the door behind him, Morgana glanced back at her best friend. As much as she hated to admit it, he’d been right. There were a lot of things that she didn’t know about Merlin, but just because they didn’t share everything didn’t mean they weren’t best friends. It would be hypocritical of her to demand all of his secrets when she kept her own from him.

There wasn’t much in the safe house. As this was one she didn’t frequent, it’s most common piece of furniture was dust. However, there was one similarity between all of her safe houses that even this place managed to have: Swiss Miss Hot Chocolate Mix with Marshmallows. 

The box was hidden up in a cupboard and she carefully got it down and placed it gently on the counter. There was an ordinary light blue mug next to it and she grabbed that too.

Water was heated up. The packet was ripped open. Cocoa powder with little marshmallows was poured into the cup. 

Soon enough she was sitting back on the chair Gwaine had been seated in, sipping her hot chocolate. It was weirdly satisfying watching as the tiny marshmallows bobbed up and down. They brought back memories that she’d tried to hide away with the rest of her childhood.

Maybe the marshmallows had magical powers because her mind slipped from the present and fell into the past.


	10. the gravity of hot chocolate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Morgana and the adventures Swiss Miss Hot Chocolate Mix with Marshmallows has seen her through.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> schedules? who needs schedules? i post when i want >:( (unfortunately bc i suck at time management and lack motivation). (This is also different points in time btw).

**_1._ **

_ Morgana ran with all the speed her eight year old body had down the grey, blank halls. She was wearing a pair of fluffy penguin socks with no traction so it wasn’t quite running but more skidding.  _

_ Despite how long she’d lived there it was still easy to get lost in the labyrinth of her home. One wrong turn and she could end up in the library (which no one used) rather than the kitchen (which was usually where she wanted to go). Morgana had complained about this to her guardian, but he’d shut her down before she could even really talk. He had a habit of doing that and I did wonders for her self-esteem.  _

_ She’d always hated  _ _ him _ _ that. _

_ After skidding down a few more corridors, she arrived in the kitchen. It was midday, just after lunch, so it wasn’t too busy. The head chef, Mary, was sitting on a stool near a counter, chopping carrots and other such vegetables.  _

_ “Mary!” She called out. Morgana tried to run over but the floor had changed from the smooth stone to tiled marble. The only movement she managed to make was falling flat on her face.  _

_ “Oh, careful, honey!” Mary said, dropping her knife on her chopping board and hurrying over to help the much younger girl up. _

_ “Look at that,” Mary tsked, pointing towards the already-forming bruise on Morgana’s knee. “You have to be more cautious, little lady. I don’t think Mr. Pendragon would be very happy with knowing I let you get hurt.” _

_ “But it wasn’t your fault! I’m the reason I fell!” _

_ “He won’t see it like that, dearie. He cares too much about you to see common sense.” _

_ “Uther doesn’t care about me,” Morgana huffed, crossing her arms. She did her best to look mad (which she was), but no matter what people only saw her as “cute”. _

Maybe she should burn down part of the building and then see how cute they thought she was. **_ooh_ **

_ “What makes you think that?” Mary asked. It was a small thing, but it was questions like that that made Morgana like Mary so much. The older woman didn’t shut her down immediately. She didn’t scold her for saying such a thing or yell at her. The words she chose weren’t invalidating and it made Morgana feel almost like an adult herself. _

_ “He gets so angry with me, even when I haven’t done anything! And he makes me train more than anyone else and never gives me any breaks. Plus I’m never allowed to have any fun! It’s wake up, eat breakfast, study, eat lunch, train, eat dinner, more training, and then bed. Who trains before bed?!” _

_ Mary smiled. It was a soft, motherly smile and it made Morgana smile a bit herself. She’d never known her birth mother, only having grown up under the watchful eye of her biological father, Uther, so Mary was the closest thing she had. _

_ “From what I’m able to tell,” Mary said, helping Morgana climb up onto a stool. “It’s his way of showing love. He wants you to be better than everyone else, so he pushes you. You may not be the heir to the Knights of Camelot, but you are still the King’s child.” _

_ “But I’m eight!” Morgana cried out, the sentence and meaning behind too mature for an eight year old to be saying and understanding. “I’m a kid and he never remembers that!” _

_ A single tear slid down her cheek and she hated herself for it. It was such a strong hate too, and once again it shouldn’t have been that strong for her age. Morgana had had no choice but to grow up here. There had never been any playing with dolls or having sleepovers with other girls her age. There were no blanket forts or make-believe games. From day one a thorough schedule had been placed in her hand that dictated every move she had to make to succeed. A single second late or any failures or steps out of line meant she’d failed. She wasn’t good enough. _

_ What a wonderful thing to put on the shoulders of a child, eh? _

_ “Hey now,” Mary said, kneeling down in front of her. “Don’t cry. Do you want me to make you some hot chocolate?” _

_ Through quiet sniffles, Morgana nodded.  _

_ It wasn’t until the sweet smell of the chocolate wafted towards her that she managed to stop. It had always been like a magic remedy for her, the ultimate weapon that could be deployed to calm her down. _

_ “Here you are, little miss,” Mary said, gingerly placing a steaming mug dotted with small penguins in front of Morgana. _

_ “They match my socks!” Morgana said excitedly. She swung her legs back and forth, doing her best to draw attention to said socks.  _

_ “So they do,” Mary said in an amused tone that adults always used when they let children think something had happened because of coincidence when it had really been planned from the start. “Be careful now, it’s still hot.” _

_ “I know!” Morgana sang, continuing to almost bounce up and down. Any experiences of sadness had been replaced by pure joy.  _

_ It was only a thing that children could really accomplish. They had the ability to change themselves so completely and so quickly.  _

_ Morgana sat patiently, staring at the thin stream of smoke rising off the hot chocolate. Little marshmallows bobbed around on the top, like small sailboats in the water. They floated in an almost spiral pattern and she watched them with such attention and interest. She’d follow one, memorizing it’s movements, and then move onto another and then another and then another. It shouldn’t have brought this much pleasure, but for whatever reason it did. _

_ When the stream had vanished almost entirely Morgana grabbed the mug and took a sip. It wasn't boiling anymore, only hot enough that it still warmed her up.  _

_ “Thank you!” Morgana said, half her face hidden beneath the rim of the mug. Her eyes shined and it was the happiest she’d felt in awhile. _

_ “Of course, princess.” _

**_2._ **

_ The suitcase wouldn’t close. She’d shoved too many things in it and now the two ends refused to meet. Morgana tried to put all her body weight on it, forcing it down, but the zipper stayed stuck. _

_ “Fuck it,” she muttered and began pulling things out from the bag. Shirts landed on the floor and trousers were flung against the bed. A battered copy of The Secret Garden perched on a pair of bright pink leggings. After a second of consideration, she yanked out a jacket and put The Secret Garden back. _

_ Loud, hurried footsteps came from down the hall and Morgana moved even faster, once again trying to zip it up with no avail.  _

_ “Goddamnit,” she muttered just as the door burst open. _

_ “Don’t go!” Arthur yelled, out of breath. He was panting and leaning on the door for support. Morgana didn’t get why he’d run when nothing he could say or do was going to change her decision. _

_ The best course of action right then was to ignore him so she did. At the very least Morgana would be able to escape with her handbag (filled with multiple weapons), so she went to grab it only for Arthur to snatch it before she could.  _

_ “Give it to me,” Morgana hissed at him, trying to yank the small bag out of his grip. He didn’t let go of it easily, but she tugged with all her might and soon enough the handle popped free. _

_ “Don’t do this,” Arthur pleaded. “If you wait just a bit then things will calm down and things will be ok again-” _

_ “WAKE UP ARTHUR! Things have never fucking been ok! This isn’t a one time event OR something that can easily be forgiven!” _

_ “He’s your father too though! He didn’t mean it!” _

_ God, she wanted to slap him. Only later in her life after having joined the Sorcerer’s would she realize just how strong her loathing in that moment had been.  _

_ “Uther Pendragon has never been my father.” She said the words in such a calm, quiet tone that it scared even herself. _

_ “Biologically-” Arthur tried to protest. He was desperately clinging onto that last straw. It was bent and crumbling, but he held on nonetheless. _

_ “I don’t care if he’s my biological father, that doesn’t make him my dad! Tell me, can you think of one instance where Uther did something entirely for me? A situation where he did something out of care and not benefit off of it at all?” _

_ Arthur seemed smug for just a tad second, like he had a perfect example, but then the look faded as fast as it had come. His mouth opened and closed like a goldfish, blowing invisible bubbles.  _

_ “See?” Morgana muttered, bitter. “There isn’t one. He cared about me only because I represented the Pendragon line in some weird fucked up way. I was a bastard, but still his daughter. A thing, not a person.” _

_ The anger seemed to double her strength. Morgana pushed down once more on the suitcase and the ends met. She circled the zipper round and then picked it up by the handle.  _

_ “I am done, Arthur.” Her voice was quiet, but at the same time it was the loudest she’d ever spoken. “I can’t be here anymore. This isn’t where I belong and I need the space to be able to find myself.” _

_ “I’m not going to be able to convince you to stay, am I?” Arthur sounded so defeated. _

_ “No, you’re not. Either get out of my way or I’ll make you move.” _

_ With reluctance, Arthur stepped aside. It surprised Morgana, who’d been expecting him to stand his ground. He was very much his father’s son, but she sometimes forgot that he was also an individual person. _

_ The only thanks she gave him was a slight nod of the head and then she walked out, leaving the Knights of Camelot behind. _

_ Outside was where everything went wrong. She’d been so wrapped up inside her head that she didn't see the rock until it was too late. Her foot connected with it and she tripped, accidentally letting go of her stuff to try and stop herself from face planting into the ground. Consequently her suitcase hit a nearby brick wall hard and the side snapped open. Clothes spilled out onto the pavement and a pair of her shoes landed in a puddle nearby. _

That _was when Morgana began to cry. She slumped down onto the pavement next to her semi-broken suitcase and let the tears come. They trailed down her face in steady streams, a river made of memories and sadness and loss. She gasped for breath, desperately trying to find enough air to calm down._

_ Eventually the tears faded away and Morgana was left feeling empty. _

_ Morgana began to shove her belongings back into the suitcase. She’d learnt her lesson the first time so she did her best to fold them while being quick. _

_ There was something in the pocket of one of her hoodies. She reached in and grabbed it, pulling out a white packet. In the rising glow of the sun, she was able to make out the words printed on it. _

_ Swiss Miss Hot Chocolate Mix with Marshmallows. _

_Morgana snorted. Of course it would be that. How could_ _it be anything else? Whenever she went, she knew that the stupid hot chocolate mix would follow and honestly, she didn’t mind._

_ There was no one else around, only the bright light of sunrise to keep her company. If Morgana’s mind had been clearer she could have created some kind of symbolism out of it, maybe something about new beginnings.  _

_ She left the broken suitcase where it was, only stopping to grab the torn copy of the Secret Garden and then put it in her smaller bag. There would be time later to worry about those beginnings (and endings). She’d never lived beyond the Knights, never been anywhere but.  _

_ For now though? _

_ Morgana moved on. _

**_3._ **

_ “You have a fancy home,” Merlin commented as he took a seat on one of the stools surrounding the island in her kitchen. He was looking around almost amazed, taking in the decor the same way one might stare at a famous monument or piece of art. _

Something you can see but never have.

_ “Don’t you have an apartment of your own?” Morgana asked with a raised eyebrow. _

_ Merlin shrugged. “Yeah, but not  _ this _ fancy. I’m not exactly poor, but definitely not this rich.” _

_ “It looks like no one lives here.” _

_ Morgana looked around and now that someone had pointed it out she realized just how true that was. She’d brought all of these things to show off, to prove that she didn’t need Uther or the Knights to succeed, not because they meant anything to her. Majority of the time she never sat on any of the couches or truly cooked in the kitchen in fear of shattering the illusion. _

_ Morgana wasn’t about to let Merlin psychoanalyze her though. They may be getting to be on good terms, but that was too much. _

_ “I don’t spend much time here,” Morgana rushed out, trying to play off just how much his comment was true. “It’s just where I come back to after a mission, nothing else.” _

_ Merlin paused. He seemed to be thinking over something and then: “Where’s home?” _

What.

_ “Home? What do you mean home?” _

_ “You know, like the place you belong? The place that makes you feel alive and loved and safe? Because this can’t be home.” _

_ “I…” _

_ Home. What a concept, huh? He was right, this wasn’t home. She didn’t belong among these bare white walls or immaculate furniture. There was nothing personal here. The Knights base most certainly had never been home and then that left the Sorcerer’s HQ… But even that didn’t come close. As skilled of an agent as she was she still sometimes felt like an outsider there. Morgana had come in with impenetrable walls built high around her and she’d come off as rude and egotistical because of it.  _

~~_ She didn’t think of herself as better, she just didn’t want to get close to anyone because all she’d even known was hurt.  _ ~~

_ So she had no home.  _

Wonderful.

_ “Do you want some hot chocolate?” Morgana blurted out, ever the avoider.  _

_ “Sure?” _

_ She pulled out two packets and two mugs from a cupboard. Milk always tasted better than hot water with it, but seeing as she’d just come back from a long mission she hadn’t had the chance to go grocery shopping (or steal food at the Sorcerers HQ). Instead Morgana filled a kettle with water and put it on to heat up. _

_ “How come you have pretty much nothing but hot chocolate?” Merlin asked. _

Because everything else from my childhood is gone but for some reason Swiss Miss Hot Chocolate Mix with Marshmallows has been the only thing that’s stayed.

_ “I just like the taste,” she shrugged.  _

_ Morgana hoped that that was more convincing out loud than in her head. _

_ Merlin hummed. He was tapping his finger against the marble counter in rhythmic beats, and Morgana realized he was nervous. What before had been awe had turned into anxiety and now the room seemed to be overwhelming him. Hell, the  _ entire situation _ was overwhelming her too. Up until now she’d felt nothing but hate towards him, but after their last mission… _

_ “Why did you save my life?” Morgana asked. _

_ Merlin shrugged. “He was going to kill you.” _

_ “Oh, so you have a hero complex?” _

_ “No!” Merlin groaned. “I just didn’t want you to get hurt, ok? We may not like each other, but that doesn’t mean I’d just sit back and let you get hurt.” _

_ “So you’re a self-sacrificing moron?” _

_ “There’s just no winning with you,” Merlin said in mock annoyance. Morgana could see how hard he was trying to cover how the corners of his lips were inching up. _

_ “I thought you already knew that,” Morgana teased. _

_ He stuck his tongue out and she flicked his nose. _

_ “I guess I should thank you too,” Merlin said. “You took a light stabbing for me.” _

_ “A light stabbing??? It was a jagged knife and it was only a few inches away from my heart!” _

_ “Compared to a  _ gunshot wound _ , I’d say that’s pretty light.” _

_ “At least the bullet went right through! The knife stayed!” _

_ “Getting shot is worse.” _

_ “Then you haven’t been stabbed enough!” _

_ “Well then you haven’t been shot enough!” _

_ They were so wrapped up in their bickering that they didn’t hear the kettle go off. Its screaming sound was hidden beneath their new found realization that maybe they weren’t so unlike after all.  _




  
  


_ The night sky was filled with so many stars. Usually there were never this many, but the carnival must have attracted them somehow. Morgana didn’t mind. You couldn’t mind something as beautiful as that.  _

_ She’d gone to win Gwen a stuffed penguin (although she would have settled for anything). Her girlfriend had been wanting to go for weeks, but on the carnival’s final night (which was tonight), she’d been stuck at work. Even though Morgana hated the idea of going, she’d promised to bring something back for Gwen.  _

_So here Morgana was, half-staring at the night sky while also wandering around, looking out for one of those game booths that might have had a stuffed penguin as a prize. She was only half paying attention_ _and-_

Holy shit.

_ It was out of the corner of her left eye that she spotted the stall. They were both holding those plastic guns, the ones that spray out water and whoever fills up the clowns head plastered on the wall faster wins. There was a time limit of course and if they didn’t fill it entirely they wouldn’t get a prize, but neither of them seemed to care.  _

_ She could sense that the only thing that mattered to them was beating each other.  _

_ Merlin was trash talking Arthur, calling him names like “dollophead” and “clotpole”. Morgana had never heard those insults before, so she guessed they’d been created purely because of Arthur’s existence. _

_ Arthur’s response was then to complain about how those weren’t real words while also simultaneously trash talking right back. He’d point out how bad Merlin was doing, how he wasn’t even holding the fake shotgun right, how his stance was off, how he kept missing, etc. _

_ In reality they were neck-and-neck. To Morgana’s trained, knowing eyes, however, she could see how they were both holding back and pretending to be worse than they were. She could feel the inner agent in her on the verge of yelling at Merlin to fix his posture and aim more to the right.  _

_ Maybe she would have. There were always so many maybe’s in a moment, but in that exact one her brain just wasn’t functioning enough to focus on any maybe. _

Her half-brother was flirting with her best friend.

_ To them it probably wasn’t flirting, but everything about their behaviour and interactions screamed non-platonic. The way Merlin occasionally brushed up against Arthur’s shoulder or the way Arthur would look at Merlin when Merlin was distracted. And god, the way Merlin looked back at him too. Arthur was Merlin’s world and Merlin was everything for Arthur.  _

_ Morgana had  _ never _ seen her brother act like this before so her first statement was incorrect. Her half-brother wasn’t flirting with her best friend. _

Her half-brother was in love with her best friend.

Holy shit.

_ She didn’t know who to be mad at at that moment. Arthur had already stolen so much of hers and now he had her best friend slowly converting into one of those love-sick girls who had always followed him around? But, ok, that wasn’t fair. Arthur had never stared back at those girls the same way he had Merlin. _

_ And Merlin the idiot. Sure he didn’t know that Arthur was her brother, but he shouldn’t be going around falling in love with Knights anyway! And did this mean that Arthur was Merlin’s roommate? She knew he had one, but Arthur… _

_ A loud ding went off. The man running the booth yelled out that they had a winner and Arthur raised his arms in triumph. He said something in a tone too low for Morgana to hear and ruffled Merlin’s hair. Merlin muttered something quiet in response and the hair ruffling turned into a punch on the arm. _

_ Arthur chose a giant purple monkey. He studied it and then immediately shoved it into Merlin’s arms. _

_ “It’s you!” Morgana heard Arthur say. _

_ “Nah, it looks more like you first thing in the morning.” _

_ “Rude! How do you know what I look like first thing?!” _

_ “Do you know how many times you’ve fallen asleep on the couch? I’ll give you a hint: it’s an incredibly high number.” _

_ “Oh well I’m sorry I don’t watch other people when they sleep! That’s not at all creepy!” _

_ “You’re in our living room! And I’m not watching you!” _

_ Their voices faded back into the crowd and some of her anger went with it. _

_ Merlin and Arthur were just so fucking sappy it made her sick. Why did they have to be like that? Why did they have to look so fucking happy? _

_ Fine. Fine she would be ok with this, only because there was nothing else she could do. Morgana wasn’t going to ruin this for them. They were in love and she knew how that felt. If it was anything like what she had with Gwen… _

_ Morgana found her stuffed penguin and won it on the first try. Holding the oversized animal tight to her chest, she left the fair, passing by a confections store with a bunch of hot chocolate packets on her way. It was an odd thing to have at a carnival, but they were apparently made by the owners and were scented with peppermint or something. She hadn’t looked close enough to know for sure, or maybe she had if she knew that much. Regardless, she headed back to her car. _

_ The stars weren’t shining as bright when she drove away, _

~~ (but she could still see them). ~~

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Plot! Yay! (Merlin's POV will be back next chapter)


	11. Up in Flames

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Merlin and Morgana talk, Lancelot gets sus, Uther gets the upper hand, and there is wholesomeness eventually.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back! Mental health is sort of under control again so haha we'll see how my posting schedule goes. I hope you enjoy!

_ The trees were dusted in ash. From afar it may have looked like snow, but the burning horizon ruined that illusion. Bright oranges and vibrant yellows lit the sky up almost like fireworks. There was a great show going on somewhere and the main attraction was fire. Beautiful, free fire that blanketed the world, suffocating all life in its flame.  _

_ Merlin stared up at it in half-horror and half-awe. The forest around him was burning slowly too and heat rushed up his arms and into his veins. He needed to do something, needed to move, but he was frozen in place.  _

This was his fault. Albion, Camelot, his home. The place that took him in, the place that saved him.

_ Whatever had been holding him back broke and Merlin ran. He ran with all he had, trees and grass blending into buildings and concrete and then- _

_ Ash. Everything was ash. If Merlin had thought the trees were bad, this… No surface had been untouched by the fire. Almost all of the buildings were caved in and blackened pieces of wood lay across the street, abandoned. Cars were burning too and Merlin had to carefully maneuver his way around them in case they were to explode. _

_ He ran and ran and ran and- _

_ There it was. The Sorcerer’s shop, their HQ. It was burning so bright he had to shield his eyes. Chunks of glass lay on the melting pavement and a stray mannequin sat in the midst of the pieces, half of its body burnt to nothing. _

_ In other words, it was gone. One of the only places he’d ever felt at home… gone. And his people… _

_ “No,” Merlin whispered and surged forward. He tried to get closer but as if seeming to know he was there something inside crashed and a fresh shower of sparks burst into the open. Some of them landed on his skin and he hissed in pain, shaking out his jacket so it didn’t catch on fire by accident. It should have deterred him, but if there was anyone inside, he needed to find them. He needed to do something because otherwise he’d just be left with the drowning feeling of helplessness. _

No please no this can’t be happening-

_ Merlin jumped over a fallen beam and was immediately met with a new wave of smoke. It suffocated him, the thick air forcing its way into his lungs. Merlin struggled for breath, coughing and hacking. Through his grey vision and watery eyes he just about managed to spot something on the ground before the dizziness took over. It was a small nametag, one the Sorcerer’s made for employees that worked in the front of the shop. It said: “Hi! I’m Freya. How may I help you?” _

_ “No,” he croaked out and- _

Merlin shot up, gasping for breath. He was sitting on something, grounded, but part of his mind was still in what must have been a dream, holding onto that image of that burning plastic name tag. The smoke that was no longer there had an imaginary vice on his lungs, causing him to hyperventilate in a way that must have made it seem like he was dying.

“Merlin!” Someone shouted from what seemed like a distance and the face of a worried Morgana came into focus. “What’s wrong?”

He tried to tell her, tried to explain what had happened in the dream, but all he managed to get out was a small choking sound.

“Hey, no, it’s ok,” Morgana whispered. She wrapped her arms around him and squeezed tightly. “You’re ok, I promise.”

Merlin felt himself relaxing into her hug. Knowing that Morgana was there made everything just that little bit better. She was the only thing keeping him tethered to this world, not allowing him to slip back into that universe where everything he loved had been set ablaze.

“Where am I?” Merlin asked when his breath finally evened out.

“A safe house of mine. I’d yell at you for one, getting stabbed, and two, going to a Knight of all people first, but you don’t need that right now. I’ll save that for later.”

“Oh thanks, I appreciate it,” Merlin said sarcastically. He drew back from Morgana and at the soft expression on her face he couldn’t help but smile. “You were worried about me.”

“Yes! Of course I was, you idiot! You got stabbed!”

“Oh yeah,” Merlin said absentmindedly, twisting his torso slightly so he could look over his shoulder to see the gauze-covered, red stained wound. “Forgot about that.”

“How are you so calm right now?!”

“I just don’t have enough energy to be anxious or worried, ya know? I’m way too exhausted.” Merlin considered trying to sleep again, but then the image of his burning home ( ~~ and Kilgharrah’s face ~~ ) appeared and he just  _ couldn’t  _ right now. 

“Where am I?” Merlin asked instead, glancing around the room they were in. 

“A safe house of mine a little out of the city.”

“If I’m here… does that mean you talked with Gwaine?”

Morgana placed her hands on her hips and that gave Merlin his answer. He groaned.

“I’m sorry,” Merlin muttered, unable to look her in the eye. He didn’t want to see the disappointment that might have been hiding there.

There was a long stretch of silence and Merlin practically vibrated with anxiety. The exhaustion-calmness had evolved into exhaustion-numbness and he wasn’t sure which one he preferred. 

“We can talk about this later, ok? For now we need to get somewhere safe.” Morgana tossed his jacket to him, which had been laying over a chair. 

“I thought this was a safe house of yours though?”

“It is, but I did tell a Knight it’s location so we need to get moving.” 

“Wait, wh- Oh. Gwaine.”

“Once again, I’ll worry about the fact that you temporarily forgot that he was a Knight later. You’ve gotten too close to him.”

She left the room before he could respond.

In her absence Merlin reached into his jacket to see what he had left in it. Originally there had been at least four weapons and a burner phone inside, but a search revealed that none of that was left. He wasn’t worried though, seeing as it was a burner and knives could always be replaced.

Just as he was removing his hand, his fingers brushed against a stray piece of paper. It was small and slightly crumpled, which was odd because it had most definitely not been there that morning. Merlin had made sure to search it earlier that day as to remove anything personal or revealing before a mission. The only things he kept in it were that burner and weapons.

Merlin pulled it out and smoothed it over. The paper read:

_ In case you need me. _

_ \- Kilgharrah  _

A number was neatly printed underneath the message.

“Merlin?” Morgana asked from the doorway. She had a helmet already on with the visor down and another one in her hand.

“Yeah,” Merlin whispered, voice low and his mouth dry. “Coming.”

_____________________________________________________________________________________________

Lancelot tossed back his fifth cup of coffee. It slightly burnt his tongue, seeing as it was fresh, but apparently he’d become so numb within these past hours that pain was below him. All of his attention was focused on the screen in front of him and even though the words had begun to blur together, he continued on.

He’d drawn the short straw. None of the Knights had wanted to search online for Kilgharrah, but Arthur had ordered that one of them do it. Normally they’d have been a bit more resistant to it, but Arthur was dealing with too much already. No one else had been in the room for it, but the yelling from Uther had been so loud they’d heard it regardless. It wasn’t a rare occurrence, but Lancelot had never heard it this bad. Then again, Arthur had never silenced his work phone before.

Lancelot clicked between multiple pages of hacked surveillance videos. Each screen was grainy, seeing as they all came from the outskirts of the city. People cared less about clearer images when it came to the docks or warehouses.

The lack of sleep was beginning to get to him. Even with all the coffee, no one could survive almost seven straight hours of staring at screens. The others were out canvassing and he logistically knew he could call one of them back to take his place, but he was weirdly invested right now.

Or maybe invested wasn’t the right word. Maybe it was more that Lancelot could let his thoughts roam without much consequence. 

His brain had specifically latched onto one event. Lancelot had never been to Arthur’s apartment before, despite how curious all of the Knights were about it. Percival had gotten to go there once, and they’d all been incredibly jealous of him for weeks after. When Uther had commanded that the two of them go find Arthur, they’d all jumped at the opportunity. Gwaine and Lancelot had been picked and…

Arthur’s roommate.

Merlin.

He was the most interesting part of their little venture. Arthur had mentioned him on a few occasions, but that still hadn’t prepared Lancelot for meeting him. Arthur and him.. they’d seemed so comfortable with each other. It was like they fit together, two parts of a whole. Arthur had trusted Merlin, but apparently not enough to tell him about his true profession.

Lancelot was good at reading people. It had always been one of his main skills, a talent of his that he couldn’t really turn off. Because of that, he’d been watching Merlin and he’d seen what Gwaine and Arthur hadn’t.

Merlin had looked worried. Not “I’m meeting new people” worried, but a “I have something I’m hiding and the presence of these new people are threatening that secret” look. It was suspicious, and considering it was Arthur, his leader, his friend, the person he would protect to his last breath, Lancelot held onto that suspicion and flipped it on Merlin.

Something wasn’t as it seemed with him and Lancelot was determined to find out what.

_____________________________________________________________________________________________

“Where have you been?!” Gaius’s voice was echoed because of how big the room was and it made Merlin wince. He hated when Gaius got mad at him, mainly because it always ended up more in disappointment than anger.

Merlin hated letting people down.

“I forgot to check in after I was done,” Merlin said, trying to keep his hands from fidgeting. It was a dead giveaway that he was lying, which most definitely wasn’t helpful in that situation. “I was exhausted from searching and fell asleep almost as soon as I got home.”

He could feel Morgana’s eyes burning into him from all the way across the room. Her gaze seemed to ignite the pain in his back even more. 

“I was worried,” Gaius said, raising an eyebrow. “I was extremely close to sending out a search party.”

“I can take of myself, you know that.”

“Merlin, you are not invincible. Yes, you are one of the best agents I have ever had the pleasure of training, but that doesn’t mean you are beyond mistakes.”

Merlin bit back the urge to argue. Now was not the time. It would only make his punishment much worse.

“I’m sorry, sir,” Merlin said, taking the easy way out.

Gaius said nothing for a few minutes, but then let out a deep sigh.

“Normally I’d have you on paperwork for a month, but we need all hands on deck. Did you at least find anything?”

_ I found Kilgharrah ( _ _ p ~~lus a bunch of unwanted questions~~ _ _ ) if that’s what you mean. _

“No,” Merlin lied. “There was nothing.”

The words tasted so bitter, but there was no taking them back now. This was his burden to bear until he figured out how to deal with it. If others knew they’d only get hurt.

“Very well. Dismissed.”

Merlin hurried out of the room, hoping for whatever dumb reason that Morgana wouldn’t follow. 

_ She did. _

“Why didn’t you tell him?!” Morgana hissed, falling into his stride. 

“I didn’t want him to worry,” Merlin said (which was true). “I’m fine now and I took care of the agent who did it. It can’t be traced back to me and I don’t think he was a Knight, so we’re good.”

“Ok, but what happens if Gaius finds out you lied AND you went to a Knight first?”

Merlin paused and considered it. “Then we’ll just make sure he doesn’t find out. It’s as easy as that.”

All he got in response to that was a hit on the back of the head.

_____________________________________________________________________________________________

  
  


He had to find him. Uthur was losing this war and maybe, just maybe if he got Kilgharrah on his side… No, that was impossible. They had too much history for Kilgharrah to ever trust him again. Kilgharrah had once been a Sorcerer too, so Uther would be going against his very ideals if he tried to get him as an ally. What he needed was to take him out before any other agency got him (especially the Sorcerers). The question was how? They needed a plan because this futile searching was going to lead nowhere. Uther had to lure Kilgharrah out somehow, but no ideas came to him.

Or maybe…

A knock on his door caused the thought to dissolve before it could even fully form.

“I SAID I WAS NOT TO BE DISTURBED NO MATTER WHAT,” Uthur shouted, anger consuming him as the door pushed open wide enough to see the face of a new and young agent. The boy was practically shaking, which was an appropriate reaction to the situation.

“I have news, sir,” the agent squeaked out.

“Have we found Kilgharrah?”

“No, but-” 

“Then what could possibly be important enough to disturb me?!”

The young agent fumbled for words and then managed to stutter out, “W-we have a lead on w-where the S-sorcerer’s HQ m-might be.”

_ Maybe today may not end in disaster. If Kilgharrah could not be found then Uther would happily take this instead. _

“Interruption excused,” Uther said, waving his hand at the agent. “Get out before I change my mind.”

The boy shakily bowed and shut the door again with a slight bang.

As soon as he was alone again, Uther smiled. It was not a kind smile, nor a gentle one. The only way to describe it would be to compare it to a predator just about to catch its prey.

“Finally,” Uther muttered, and began to plot.

_____________________________________________________________________________________________

The couple downstairs weren’t shouting. It almost scared Merlin, the lack of that noise, and considering he was already on edge it seemed quite like a bad omen. Part of him just wanted to run down the stairs and never go back to their apartment, but that wasn’t an option.

Merlin fumbled for his keys in his jacket and once tight in his grip, he slotted the right key into the lock of their apartment. Opening the door went without a hitch, but the hard part was trying to shut it as quietly as he could. He managed to succeed, only making a slight clicking sound, but then Merlin proceeded to bump into the coat rack. It fell hard against the floor, making a giant crashing noise.

“Fuck,” Merlin whispered. He prayed Arthur wasn’t home yet because his roommate was always grumpy after waking up and especially after the stress of the past 24 hours he’d be beyond pissed.

_ He wasn’t equipped to deal with that right now. _

Merlin kicked off his shoes, and tiptoed into their living room. It was early enough that natural light shone through their windows, eliminating the need to turn on any light and therefore also eliminating another way he could have maybe accidentally woken Arthur up.

In the end these precautions didn’t matter. Since it was already so bright it wasn’t hard to spot his friend, who was sprawled across their couch. He was snoring, still fast-asleep, and Merlin thanked whatever God that might be up there for it. He’d get to avoid any questions for at least the next five hours. 

“Tired,” Merlin muttered to himself in a zombie like fashion. He turned himself in the direction of his room but stopped after a few steps and turned back. There was a blanket laying on the floor and Merlin shook it out and then gently laid it on top of Arthur. One of his roommates legs hung off the edge of the sofa, so it wasn’t perfect, but still. He looked so peaceful in that moment and Merlin couldn’t help but smile. 

_ A completely quiet Arthur got an automatic smile since it was such a rare occurrence.  _

“Goodnight, Arthur,” Merlin whispered. He hesitated a second longer and then went to go to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One of the reasons I love my friend Cassie so much is she reads over everything I write and then helps me edit it and I don't even have to pay her for it.

**Author's Note:**

> comments and kudos appreciated :)


End file.
